


In Waking and Dream

by staringatthesky



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, Family, Gen, POV Female Character, Romance, character history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 91,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatthesky/pseuds/staringatthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With you in waking and dream I shall be,<br/>In the place of shadow and memory.</p>
<p>Because once there was a little girl who saw things; whose dreams became nightmares and turned into reality; whose reality became the shadow world of the vampire and the fey. This is the story of Alice, who left humanity behind to become a vampire and search out her Jasper and her family. Canon compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

** Prologue **

****

_Forever  by Lucy Maud Montgomery_

_With you I shall ever be;_   
_Over land and sea_   
_My thoughts will companion you;_   
_With yours shall my laughter chime,_   
_And my step keep time_   
_In the dusk and dew_   
_With yours in blithesome rhyme;_   
_In all of your joy shall I rejoice,_   
_On my lips your sorrow shall find a voice,_   
_And when your tears in bitterness fall_   
_Mine shall mingle with them all;_   
_With you in waking and dream I shall be,_   
_In the place of shadow and memory,_   
_Under young springtime moons,_   
_And on harvest noons,_   
_And when the stars are withdrawn_   
_From the white pathway of the dawn._   


_O, my friend, nothing shall ever part_   
_My soul from yours, yours from my heart!_   
_I am yours and you mine, in silence and in speech,_   
_Death will only seal us each to each._   
_Through the darkness we shall fare with fearless jest,_   
_Starward we shall go on a joyous new quest;_   
_There be many worlds, as we shall prove,_   
_Many suns and systems, but only one love_

The paper is soft and worn with age, the printed words blurred with handling, as I gently flatten it out on the table in front of me. I don’t need to, the words have been committed to memory for years now, but I find the familiar act of unfolding the paper and reading the lines comforting.

“Anything I can get for you, hon?”

The friendly but impersonal voice of the waitress breaks into my thoughts as she approaches my booth. I smile at her sweetly. She’s got bleached blonde hair with two inches of grey roots and her apron is dirty, but everyone is beautiful to me today. “A cup of tea please, and a donut.” I won’t eat it, but I don’t know how long I will have to wait and it will give me an excuse to linger.

She places a chipped white cup and saucer in front of me, and a plate with a large, greasy looking donut beside it.

“Thank you!” I say brightly, and pretend I don’t notice her smile falter a little as she looks into my eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she says, after a pause that probably no one but I would notice. “Anything else you want, you just call.”

I drop my eyes back to the paper in front of me. One edge is jagged, as though it was torn out of a book, and once again I wonder what happened to the rest of the book. My eyes scan too, the handwritten scrawl at the bottom of the page, the pencil faded after nearly thirty years. _Alice- you called him Jasper. Find him. Good luck._

_Jasper._ I have to stop myself from dancing with impatience in my seat, and I whisper his name like it’s a talisman. _Jasper._ I’ve been waiting so long, and now it’s finally time…it occurs to me briefly that most people would be nervous in this situation, but even the idea of it makes me giggle. _Jasper_. I can’t be anything but joyful, knowing that soon – soon!- he’ll be walking right through that door and then I’ll never be alone again.

I pretend to take a sip of my tea, keeping the grimace off my face, and pick at the donut, slipping the crumbs under a napkin. Outside, the Philadelphia sky is grey and dreary and there is a sudden spatter of raindrops against the diner’s window. As the rain settles into a steady downpour I sigh and sit back. I know that I won’t see him until the sun comes out. There’s nothing to do now but wait.

Time ticks by. I crumble my donut and hide it in the napkin. I read a newspaper. The waitress brings me another cup of tea and I ask for a piece of pie, and then I have to try and dispose of that as well without eating it. I watch the lunchtime crowd flow in and eat and flow out, but even with all that delicious scent and the hypnotic siren call of the heartbeats my focus never wavers. _Jasper._ I know it’s going to be today. The dress, the waitress, the way the sun breaks through the clouds and makes the wet pavements gleam…everything is right. Everything matches the vision I’ve carried in my head and heart for the past twenty eight years. I prop my chin on my hands, looking out the window and waiting, and then my heart soars and my whole world blooms bigger because there he is.

The chimes above the door ring and he steps through. _Jasper._ He’s wearing ill-fitting grey serge trousers cinched together at the waist by a belt, and a threadbare shirt that might once have been red but is now more of a faded pink, and a grey pinstriped waistcoat that somehow manages to match neither the trousers nor the shirt…and despite this fashion disaster he’s still the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. His hat is pulled low over his forehead and he’s looking down so that I can’t see his eyes, but I can see the dull gleam of his blonde hair and the long, strong masculine fingers as he reaches behind him to pull the door shut. _It’s finally you. After all this time…my Jasper._

I don’t even hesitate. Not now, not after all this time of waiting. Instead I rise to my feet and smooth the crumbs off my sweet cherry print dress and swiftly move to his side. He turns his head sharply and takes a step back, but nothing can stop the dizzying swirl of happiness I feel inside. I tilt my head to peek under the hat and his blood red eyes meet my glowing golden ones and I feel my whole face light up with my joyful smile.

“Jasper,” I say softly. “It’s you…you’ve kept me waiting a long time.”

I hold out my hand to him, and I watch his face shift from taut suspicion to a kind of incredulous happiness, and then he bows his head and gives me the crooked grin I’ve seen so often in my mind as his fingers fold around mine. “My apologies ma’am,” he murmurs, in the syrupy Southern accent my ears have been aching to hear. “My apologies…I’m here now.”


	2. Sometimes I know things.

_Biloxi, Mississippi 1909._

I look down at the cards in my hand. I only need one more. “Do you have Mrs Bones, the butcher’s wife?”

Ivy scowls fiercely and throws down her hand of cards. “You cheater!”

“I am not!” I snatch up the card with Mrs Bones and slip her in beside her husband and son and daughter. “I’m just a lucky guesser…and I win.”

“You do so cheat! I’m sick of you Alice Brandon, I don’t want to play with such a cheater!” Ivy scrambles to her feet and kicks at the cards, which scatter across the rug.

I move to pick them up. “Don’t ruin my cards!”

“Who cares? No one will play with someone who cheats all the time.” Ivy stamps spitefully on my fingers as I reach for the cards and then runs from the room. I blink back the tears as I slowly gather the Happy Families cards together.

I _didn’t_ cheat. I can’t help it if I’m lucky at guessing. I put the cards together, finding it soothing to match all the families. Bones the butcher family, Dose the doctor family, Tape the tailor family and, my favourite, the Soot the sweep family. I like how their faces are all black from the chimney. Once I rubbed soot all over my face to be Miss Soot the Sweep’s daughter and it made Mama laugh so much.

I’m not going to cry. I won’t let Ivy see she’s upset me. I put the cards back carefully in the cabinet and tiptoe into the front room where Mama is sitting with Mrs Mackintosh, Ivy’s mother. They’ve finished their cups of tea and are talking quietly. Ivy is sitting next to her mother on the sofa and she makes a face at me and tosses her head so that her curls swish.

Mama smiles at me and I stand beside her chair and gently stroke her hair. Mrs Mackintosh gives me a stern sort of smile. She doesn’t like me. Mostly people don’t, but Mrs Mackintosh is bad at pretending.

“Good afternoon Mary Alice,” she says sweetly. “How are you today, dear?”

“Good, thank you,” I reply awkwardly. I stand on one foot and fiddle with my ribbon sash. “I’m sorry about your mother,” I say suddenly. “I hope she gets better soon.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs Mackintosh’s voice is icy, and I look up, startled to feel the room suddenly bristling with tension. Even Mama is looking at me with a frown.

“Your mother,” I falter. “She hurt her leg…didn’t she?” Suddenly I’m not sure. Why did I say that? “Didn’t you say that?”

“I said no such thing,” Mrs Mackintosh says harshly. “My mother is fine, thank you very much Mary Alice.” She looks at my mother. “I’ll be going now Caroline. It was lovely to see you again, thank you. Ivy, come along.”

I don’t say anything as Mama walks them to the door and waves them off. I’m afraid that Mama will be angry with me for being rude, although I didn’t mean to. I _know_ that Mrs Mackintosh’s mother fell down the stairs and hurt her leg…didn’t she?

“Mama,” I say timidly. “I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing…”

Mama sighs and kneels in front of me, wrapping me in her arms. She smells like lavender and baking bread. “I know darling. But why did you say that? Mrs Mackintosh left her mother at home quite well before she came here this afternoon.”

“I don’t know!” I’m so frustrated that I burst into tears. “I thought that was what she said! I didn’t mean anything! And Ivy was so mean and she says I’m a cheater and I’m _not!”_

My last words are a wail, and Mama rubs gently at my back while I sob. It’s not fair. I don’t understand why the things I say upset people so much. I don’t mean to- I really thought that her mother had hurt herself but maybe it was just a mistake. _Or maybe it just hasn’t happened yet,_ the tiny voice inside me whispers, but I refuse to acknowledge that. I’m not a witch or a freak, I’m NOT.

Mama hands me her handkerchief and I wipe my eyes and try and stop crying. “I’m sorry Mama.”

“It’s okay Alice,” Mama rises awkwardly back to her feet, her hands in the small of her back as she stretches. She’s got a baby growing in her tummy and the big belly is sometimes uncomfortable. “Come in to the kitchen with me; you can practise your reading while I make dinner. Papa will be home soon.”

I’m nine now and a good reader, so practising is really just reading aloud to entertain mama while she does her work. I skip in to my bedroom and find our book and then I sit at the kitchen table reading while Mama chops and slices the meat and vegetables for dinner. We’re reading A Little Princess, and I’m reading about poor Sara Crewe freezing and hungry in the attic when the door opens and Papa comes in.

“Good afternoon ladies,” he says cheerfully.

Mama smiles at him, and I jump up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. Papa has been away for a week, taking the pearls to sell, and he’s carrying his blue suitcase and looking pleased with himself.

“Did you have a good trip?” Mama asks.

“Yes, I had some good luck and may have made some useful new business contacts,” Papa answers. He hands me the suitcase. “Put this in my room please Alice.”

It’s heavy and I can’t lift it, but I drag it down the hallway and into their room, leaving it propped up against the end of the bed before hurrying back to the kitchen. I’m almost at the door when I hear Papa mention the Mackintoshes and I pause, just out of sight, to listen.

“Great fuss at the Mackintosh house as I passed by on my way from the train station,” Papa says. I hear the clink of glass as Mama pours him a drink. “Seems the old lady- Martha Mackintosh’s mother- had fallen down the stairs. A bad leg break apparently; they were carrying her out to the car to go to the hospital as I passed….why Caroline, what’s the matter? Sit down!”

I stuff my fist in my mouth to stop my sound of horror from escaping. I can hear the clatter as Mama drops the bottle and the scuffle of chairs and feet as Papa must stand up and help Mama into a seat. “Caroline! What is it?”

“Alice,” Mama whispers. “Martha was here this afternoon, we took tea, and Alice said…” Her voice trails off.

“Alice said _what?_ ” Papa’s voice is hard. “What did the child say, Caroline?”

“She told Martha that she _was sorry about her mother, and she hoped she would get better soon_ ,” Mama says reluctantly.

“And she knew nothing of this?”

“No. It was earlier in the day…when Martha left home her mother was quite well.” Mama’s voice is soft.

Papa says a bad word, and I shrink back into the wall as I hear his feet pacing across the kitchen. “I thought we were past this nonsense, Caroline! The child can’t be allowed to go around spilling out her silly stories and imaginings as though they were fact!”

“They’re not stories,” Mama speaks so quietly I can barely hear her. “She’s always right John, you know that.”

“Do you think that matters?” Papa is loud and angry and my eyes fill with tears again. “She can’t go around saying things like this Caroline! You know what people will say! It was one thing when she was small and would predict the weather; that was just a harmless game, but this…!”

“I know! But she doesn’t mean to John, she was truly confused when I asked her about what she said,” Mama tries to explain. “She thought Martha must have said something, and she didn’t understand why we didn’t know.”

“Well, if she can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality we’ve got a problem on our hands,” Papa mutters.

“I’ll talk to her again,” Mama says tiredly, and silently I turn and flee down the hallway.

I don’t want to talk about it. Ivy’s grandmother fell down the stairs and broke her leg, _after_ I said something about it? I feel sick, as if by saying something I made it happen, and I would never want someone to get hurt, especially not Ivy’s grandmother. She’s always so kind to me. She tells me and Ivy wonderful stories about growing up in London and travelling all the way to America on the big boat. I feel terrible when I think about her being hurt and needing the hospital.

I’m quiet at dinner and don’t eat very much. Papa tells us about his travels and Mama listens attentively, but I move the food around on my plate listlessly. Mama looks at me sharply once or twice but doesn’t say anything, and I don’t think Papa notices me much at all. He doesn’t think daughters are very interesting. He was so pleased about Mama having another baby, but I know he’s going to be disappointed when it’s another girl.

After dinner I help Mama with the dishes and tidying up the kitchen. She moves slowly, and I think her back must be hurting from the baby. I ask if she wants me to make the tea and she thanks me and says yes, but instead of going into the front room to sit with Papa she sits down at the kitchen table and watches me thoughtfully.

“Alice darling,” she says slowly. “How did you know Mrs MacNeil had hurt her leg? Was it…in a dream? Or did you just…think it? Or did you hear something?”

I stir the tea slowly, trying to remember. It wasn’t a dream. I think maybe I saw something, or thought something… “I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “I really don’t, Mama. Sometimes I just guess and it’s right, but sometimes I just _know_ things even though I don’t know where they come from _._ ”

Mama’s face is white. “Do you… _know_ …anything else Alice?”

I stare at her. _I know so many things, Mama. But do_ you _really want to know?_ “The baby is a girl,” I say softly, after a long pause. “She’s going to have curly hair, and a mark right here.” My fingers touch my cheek, down near my jaw. “Just a little one, shaped like a fish.”

For a long moment Mama’s eyes meet mine, and then she looks away. “I understand,” she says quietly. “I believe that you see things and know things even when it makes no earthly sense that you do. I believe that you mean no harm. But Alice darling, please listen to me. _You mustn’t talk about these things anymore_. It’s not a good idea to talk about things you…well, things like you said to Mrs Mackintosh this afternoon. Do you understand?”

I nod soberly, even though it’s not really true. I _don’t_ understand. I don’t understand why sometimes I know things, and why people don’t like me just because I tell the truth.

Mama nods and sips her tea. “Think before you speak Alice. Don’t say things that will make people unhappy, or angry with you. You’re a little girl, and you need to stay out of trouble. Do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll try Mama.”

 


	3. Sticks and Stones

I really do mean to try and follow Mama’s advice. Stop saying things that will make people upset, and try my best to stay out of trouble. But when I get to school the next morning it doesn’t seem to matter what my intentions might be. I’m met at the gate by Ivy, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at me, with three of the big, mean girls standing at her back.

“There she is,” she hisses meanly. “You made my grandmother fall down the stairs!”

I clutch my lunch bag tightly. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Ivy is furious, but behind all that she looks…afraid? Of me? “You said she hurt herself and then when we got home she’d fallen down! You’re a witch Mary Alice Brandon!”

I back away from the girls, until my back hits the metal gate and I can’t go any further. “I never did anything,” I whisper. I should never have shown them I was scared though, because now the big girls are coming closer with their mean, sneering faces, and Ivy pushes me hard in the shoulder.

“You’re a witch,” she says meanly. “You sold your soul to the devil.”

I can’t stop the tears from coming to my eyes. She’s a lot bigger than me and her fingers digging into my shoulders hurts. “Don’t,” I say, but now they’re all calling names and one of the big girls kicks me in the shin and makes me shriek. I push past and run headlong into the school building, crashing blindly into the black clad body of one of the nuns.

“Child, what on earth!” It’s Sister Mary Alice, and when she looks down and sees that it’s me she smiles gently. “Why, it’s my own little Mary Alice…what’s happened to upset you?”

I gulp back the tears, sniffing as I scrabble in my sleeve for my hanky. Sister Mary Alice waits patiently while I get myself under control, and then she leads me into the side chapel and we take a seat in the back pew. It’s cool and quiet in there and the light coming through the stained glass windows along the wall paints rainbows on the floor.

“Now child, tell me what has you so upset.”

I look at the puddles of colour on the floor and kick my feet, considering. Can I tell her? Sister Mary Alice was my teacher in the first class, and she’s always been kind. Most of the nuns are strict, and some are mean, but not Sister Mary Alice. We’ve been friends since she found out that my whole name is the same as her Sister name and she told me about Saint Alice. But Mama told me not to talk about it, and what if Ivy is right and the devil has something to do with it all?

“Ivy thinks I did something bad,” I say at last.

Sister Mary Alice nods. “I see,” she says gravely. “And what might that be?”

I bite my lip. Maybe if we went in to the confessional then I could tell her, because the priest can’t say anything you tell him in there. But I don’t think the sisters are allowed to hear confessions and…oh, I’m so confused and upset that I just open my mouth and blurt out, “She thinks I made her grandmother fall down the stairs. But I didn’t! How could I? I wasn’t even there!”

“Well, I’m sure she’s just upset that her grandmother is hurt,” Sister Mary Alice says gently. “She’ll realise that she’s being silly and the two of you will be friends just as you always were soon.”

I shake my head glumly. “I don’t think so. See…she and her mama were at my house and I…I…” My voice drops to a whisper. “I said I hoped that her grandma’s leg would get better soon. And they didn’t know what I was talking about. _Because it hadn’t even happened yet._ ”

I raise my eyes, fearful of what I might see. What if Sister Mary Alice is angry with me? What if she thinks I’m a witch or a freak or from the devil? What if she drags me off and makes me go to the priest? But her round face is placid and her blue eyes are kind as she regards me thoughtfully.

“Perhaps it was just an unfortunate joke?” she suggests lightly. “A guess?”

I shrug. I don’t know how I knew, so in a way it was just a guess but… “No,” I say, quietly but firmly. “I _knew._ ”

“I suppose you did,” Sister Mary Alice says softly. “It’s not the first time either, is it? Sometimes you know things before they happen, don’t you? Or you guess and it’s right? Like the way you always knew what song we would sing first thing in the morning when you were in the first class.”

I flush. I’d forgotten about that. But when I was in the baby class with Sister Mary Alice I used to get the song sheets out for her to play the piano, and I nearly always guessed right which song she wanted. “I don’t mean to. I don’t know how it happens.”

Sister Mary Alice lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I understand child. Don’t be afraid. My mother was like you, back in the old country; they said she had the sight.”

My eyes open wide and I find myself chewing anxiously on the end of my braid. “The…sight? But isn’t that a bad thing, like being a witch? Ivy said that’s what I was, and she said I sold my soul to the devil.”

A brief frown flashes across the nun’s face. “Oh no, Alice, the devil has nothing to do with the sight. It may feel like a heavy burden, but it’s like an extra gift from God and all part of His heavenly plan for you.” She takes my braid and gently extracts it from my teeth.

“But no one likes it,” I say in a small voice. “No one likes me when I say things, even when they’re true.”

“Your hunches and guesses make you special, Alice. They make you different, and sometimes people are afraid of what is different. But that is their small minds and fears talking…you were made by God, made fearfully and wonderfully in His image, and God does not make mistakes. It is up to you to trust in Him.” Sister Mary Alice eyes me steadily. “I’m talking to you of serious and grown up things now Alice, because I believe you are a bright girl and capable of understanding this. Your sight is a gift, but it isn’t one that comes without consequences. And one of those consequences is that you must deal with those who will not understand you, and will be afraid and cruel in their fear.”

I am scarcely breathing as I try and take in her words. “What should I do?”

Sister Mary Alice smiles, and I relax at her softened face. “Child, you will work that out for yourself over time. For now I think you should avoid those who taunt you and think very hard before you speak of what you see in your mind’s eye.”

“Mama says I mustn’t speak of it,” I say quietly.

“Well, perhaps Mama is right,” Sister Mary Alice sighs. “Not now, not while you are small…pray Alice, pray for guidance, and try and follow the light of God in your life.” She folds her hand and murmurs the familiar words of the Lord’s Prayer, and I mumble along with her. “Good girl,” she says when we’re done. “Run along to class now. And if you need to talk to someone Alice, you know you can always come to me.” She looks as though she wants to say more, but then she gives a slight shake of her. “Off you go.”

I slip into my seat just before the bell rings for first class. Ivy and I share a desk and she turns her nose up at me and looks away, but I don’t pay her any attention. My mind is too full of all that Sister Mary Alice told me. The sight…a special gift. I stand up and sit down with the other girls, but I’m not really paying attention to the morning hymns and prayers.

I volunteer to help Sister Catherine tidy the classroom during the break, and then after I’ve eaten my lunch I skip along to the library. Sister Julian doesn’t mind if girls stay there and read during break time, and I know that in there I’ll be safely out of the way of Ivy and her unkind friends. There are several older girls working at their studies in the library, but I find an empty corner behind the encyclopaedias and read happily until the bell rings.

I’m a little worried at home time. Ivy and I usually walk as far as her house together, and then I walk the last part alone. She’s not waiting at the gate for me, and I hope I’ve missed her as I head off at a fast walk.

“There she goes. There goes the freak.”

My heart beats faster. It’s Ivy, but she’s not alone. She’s got her brother and some of his friends with her, as well as the same big girls she was with at school earlier. I pretend not to notice as they fall into step behind me, just keep walking and holding my lunch bag a little more tightly. But I can’t stop my ears from hearing what they’re saying, and my face burns at some of the words they say.

It gets worse. Something clatters on the sidewalk ahead of me. A stone, small and grey and far more terrifying than it should be because someone threw it at _me._ They’re trying to hurt me. Then there’s a stinging pain on my shoulder and more clattering on the path as more stones fly past, and I whirl around and shout at them. “Stop it!”

“Or what?” It’s Ivy’s brother, his face ugly as he taunts me. “What will you do about it, witch? Put a spell on me?”

“I’m not a witch! I didn’t do anything!” I yell, but then I scream as one of the sharp pebbles strikes me hard in the face and I turn and flee.

I’m small but I’m fast, and fear gives my feet wings. I can hear them behind me, most of them falling further and further behind as I run, until it’s just me and one set of heavy footfalls. One person, just one more to get away from…but he’s bigger and his hand grabs the back of my dress as it flies out behind me and with a shriek I come crashing down to earth, skidding on my hands and knees in the gravel.

It’s Ivy’s brother, standing above me and glaring. “My mother told us what you said…you’re a freak Mary Alice Brandon, and you stay away from my family!”

Ignoring the pain in my hands and knees and the blood soaking into my stockings I scramble to my feet and run, hearing him shout after me again. “You tell anyone it was my fault you’re hurt and you’ll be sorry! Freak!”

I run until I reach our gate, and then I drop down behind the stone wall, trying to stop my sobbing breath. My hands and knees are burning, and when I look at them I see the scrapes, welling with blood and riddled with gravel. Oh, it hurts…almost as much as my heart hurts with the terrible things they were saying about me.

I sniff and wipe my nose on my sleeve, not caring about making a mess. The dress has dirt and blood on it anyway, and when I skidded along the road I’ve torn the lace on the hem. I’m still horrified when I look down at my sleeve and see the smear of blood from my face though, and it’s only then that I become aware of the throbbing pain in my cheek where the stone hit me.

“Alice my darling, what happened?” Mama exclaims as I limp up the porch steps a few moments later. She struggles to get her big, clumsy body out of the low chair she’s been resting in.

My lip quivers. “I fell down,” I whisper. “I’m sorry about my dress and my stockings.”

“Oh silly girl, you need to be more careful!” Mama holds my chin and tips my face up, looking at me intently. “What happened to your face, Alice? You didn’t do that falling down in the road!”

“I fell down,” I repeat stubbornly. “That’s all Mama…I just fell down.” And I don’t look her in the eyes, but pull my face away and stare at my shoes.

I know she doesn’t believe me, but sometimes even adults don’t want to deal with unpleasant things and a moment later Mama sighs. “Come to the kitchen,” she says quietly. “We need to clean you up.”

Mama helps me out of my ruined dress and stockings, and I sit on the table in my underwear while she bathes my knees and hands and face. The water in the basin turns red with my blood and I feel sick. I look away, trying not to cry at the burn of the lotion she smears on the scrapes, wishing I could tell her what had happened and have her fix it but knowing that there’s nothing she can do.

“There you go,” Mama says softly, kissing my forehead. “Go and put on your nightgown Alice, Papa won’t be home so we might just have supper in the kitchen tonight.”

I walk slowly into my bedroom, where I put on my nightgown and sit on my bed, holding my doll tightly and looking out the window at the late afternoon sunlight reflecting off the pond. The salty tears slide down my cheeks, stinging as they smear along the broken skin, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so afraid. Somehow I know with a deep and unbreakable certainty that today will not be the only day that someone will call me a witch and hate me for what I can do. Not only that, but one day they will have more than pebbles to hurt me with and there will not be any loving arms to save me when I fall.


	4. Learning to Lie

I take a different way to school the next day. It’s a little longer, but it makes me feel safer and sure enough I don’t run in to any trouble. I’m able to slip in to school by the side gate and wait in the classroom until the bell rings.

Sister Augustine calls me up to her desk during spelling. She wants to see the sentences I’ve written out so carefully on my chalkboard, and she commends me on my handwriting at the same time as she sighs over my dreadful spelling. Before I am dismissed back to my desk she holds my chin and tilts my face towards the window so she can examine the dark purple bruise with its dried crust of blood that is marking my cheek.

“That looks nasty Mary Alice,” she says in her brisk, loud voice. “What did you do?”

I realise that there is a hush throughout the room and all the children are listening for my answer. Somehow they all know how I hurt myself, and I feel a sudden flush of anger that they all know and no one is willing to extend a hand in friendship and defend me.

“I fell down,” I say, clearly. “On the way home after school yesterday.” I show her my scraped palms and she nods at me sceptically.

“Very well. Be more careful in future.”

As I turn and march back to my desk my eyes meet Ivy’s and I narrow them at her, glaring at her with all the anger that’s currently flooding my body. Suddenly I hate her, for saying untrue things about me, for making me feel weak and small and afraid.

“I didn’t tell tales on you and your horrible brother,” I hiss as I sit down. “But that’s because I’m going to get you back…you’ll be sorry you were ever mean to me Ivy Mackintosh.”

She sneers at me, but my anger makes me brave and I can see that it’s mostly bravado on her part. “You’ll be sorry,” I say quietly, and even to me my voice sounds menacing.

Of course, I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish my goal of revenge. I’m the smallest girl in my grade so I probably can’t physically hurt her even if I wanted to. When I step out into the playground at break time I realise with a kind of dull stab of unhappiness that although no one else is being mean to me, none of the other girls will look at me either. No one sits beside me while I eat my apple, and when I approach a trio of girls I’ve always been friendly with they link arms and skip away. Ivy has told her tales and spread her lies well, and it seems that now I have no friends left to help me either.

When my apple is finished I toss the core in the trash and hop listlessly through an abandoned hopscotch grid that someone has chalked on to the stones. Ivy and her new friends are over by the only tree in the yard, an old apple tree that hasn’t borne fruit in years, and I lean against the cool stones of the building and watch them carefully. They’re giggling and talking, and even though it’s strictly against the rules Ivy starts showing off and climbing the tree. She stops when she’s just above head height, giggling down at her friends, and then meeting my eyes and sticking her tongue out rudely. I cross my arms tightly and glare at her, and I’m just about to shout an insult when there’s a rending crack, and the branch splits off the tree. It crashes to the ground, Ivy shrieking as she falls with it.

There’s a collective gasp and all the girls in the yard rush to see what has happened, me included. I’m close by and a quick runner so I reach Ivy before most of the others, and crouch beside her as she sobs on the ground. There’s drips of blood coming from her nose and her cardigan is a mess of leaves and twigs, but she squawking and crying and waving her arms around, so I don’t think she’s badly hurt.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Get away!” she shrieks. “This is your fault Alice…I saw you watching me! You made my Grandma fall down the stairs and now you made me fall out of the tree!”

My mouth drops open. How can she believe what she’s saying? Such things are impossible, and even if they weren’t we’re supposed to be friends…how can she even think for a moment I’d hurt someone on purpose? But then a nasty idea sneaks into my mind, and this seems like an ideal opportunity to make her sorry for hurting me and maybe keep me a little safer into the future.

I give a quick glance over my shoulder. Sister Augustine is on her way but I still have a few seconds before she’ll be able to hear me. So I bend down and hiss right into Ivy’s face. “You’re right. I did this to you. I told you I’d make you sorry for being mean to me! And you’d better stop it and tell everyone you were wrong, because if you ever tell stories about me or hurt me again I’ll do something worse!”

I step back, aghast at the lie I’ve just spat out so impulsively. Ivy is crying in earnest now, loud sobs that are as much terrified as hurt, and as Sister Augustine arrives I slip away with my heart thumping. What have I done? I’ve told a lie, a big one…practically admitted to being a witch and a freak. _But you’re not_ , I remind myself practically _. All you’ve done is use her own stupid lies against her…and if she believes that you can hurt her then maybe she’ll just leave you alone?_ I can’t stop the small smirk of satisfaction as it flits across my face.

Ivy is red eyed and sniffly from crying when she slips into the desk beside me for afternoon school. She doesn’t look at me as we listen to the lesson, in fact both of us sit silently and well behaved all afternoon. Even so, as the last bell rings Sister Augustine instructs us to stay behind.

She looks at us sternly over her glasses as we stand in front of her desk. Ivy is fidgety and tearful, but I stand quite still, gazing tranquilly at Sister and waiting for her to speak. I’m not worried…I know this will be fine.

“Now, I want to know what nonsense is going on between the two of you,” Sister Augustine says bluntly.

“Ivy thinks I made her fall out of the tree,” I say sweetly. “She’s been telling lies about me.” My eyes meet hers, and I’m honestly shocked at how frightened of me she looks. I just wanted her to leave me alone…I didn’t mean to make her so scared.

“Ivy?” Sister Augustine frowns. “Why do you think Mary Alice had anything to do with your fall?”

Ivy’s lip quivers, and her chestnut curls swing as she shakes her head. “I made a mistake,” she says quietly. “Alice didn’t…she didn’t do anything.” She meets my eyes almost pleadingly. “I’m sorry Alice.”

Somehow this doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would. I _have_ made her feel sorry for being mean to me and I _don’t_ think she’ll do anything else to hurt me like throwing the stones which is what I wanted. But instead of feeling happy this victory just feels hollow and wrong…I didn’t do anything to hurt her, but maybe manipulating events and going along with her lies is just as bad?

As soon as we’re dismissed we both hurry for the gate, although we’re walking so far apart no one could possibly think we’re together. Ivy’s brother is there, waiting for her, and as soon as he sees me he shouts something. I’m just as glad that I don’t understand what he says, because I can tell by the look on his face that it’s hateful.

“Wait!” Ivy calls desperately, glancing at me and then running towards her brother. “You can’t…” She reaches his side and whispers frantically in his ear. He looks astonished and then angry and then…he looks afraid. The two of them walk closely together as they almost run off down the street, leaving me staring after them blankly.

I’m so confused and bewildered by all that has gone on during the day that I don’t, at first, realise that my feet are taking me on a different way home. It’s not until several minutes later that I look around in confusion, not sure at first where exactly I am or what I’m doing here. Then I see the figure of a lady I know coming down the steps of the cottage to my right and I understand. _The midwife. Mama needs her._

“Mary Alice!” Mrs Hollings sees me and smiles. She helped when I was born and now she’s going to help with the new baby. “What are you doing here? Did your mother send you?” She looks at me sharply. “Is it the baby?”

I nod wordlessly. This makes _no sense_ \- nothing makes sense anymore! I’ve been at school, I don’t know whether Mama needs her now…but my heart knows. In my mind I see again the little face of my new baby sister, with her dark curls and the strawberry birthmark shaped like a fish.

“Come along then dear.” Mrs Hollings climbs into the small pony cart, flinging the reins over the animal’s head. “Climb in, we’ll be home soon. Fortunately I’ve just finished my last appointment for the day, we’ll go along and I’ll see how your mother is doing.”

The pony trots along the path, kicking up dust under his heels. He’s old and not very fast, but it’s still quicker than walking. I ride along in silence, clutching my lunch bag. What if I’m wrong? What if mama is fine?

I’m not wrong though. As the pony turns into the drive I see Mama, halfway across the lawn, bending over with her hands pressing into her belly. I give a wordless shriek and hurtle straight out of the cart and over to her, nearly falling and breaking my leg as I do so.

“Mama!”

“Oh, Alice my darling,” Mama straightens up and smiles at me, but her face is pale and there are lines of tension in her forehead. She looks from me to Mrs Hollings and back again, and the smile she gives me is almost sad. “You brought the midwife with you…clever girl. How very lucky.” She takes a few steps towards the house and then groans, low and long, standing very still and holding her belly again.

“Mrs Brandon, what are you doing outside?” Mrs Hollings has loosened the pony’s harness and strapped a feedbag on to his nose. He stands placidly eating, occasionally switching his tail at the flies. He’s used to waiting. “You should be inside and in bed by the look of you!”

“I wasn’t sure if Alice…” Mama’s voice trails off vaguely. “Never mind, I’m just glad you’re here now.”

Mrs Hollings takes Mama’s arm and begins leading her firmly towards the house. “How far apart are the pains?”

Mama doesn’t even make it to the steps before she’s caught by another one. I bite my lip as she moans again, bending over with her arms braced against the porch railings. “Only minutes,” she pants at last. “The waters are still intact though.”

“Let’s get you inside,” Mrs Hollings says bracingly. “I think I got here just in good time! Alice dear, run and put the water on please, just as we talked about.”

I run to the kitchen. The big pot of water is already on the stove, pushed to the back where it will stay warm and not boil dry. Mama has already been preparing. Using all my strength I push the heavy pot on to the heat so it will boil, and then tiptoe down to Mama’s room.

Mrs Hollings is helping Mama out of her clothes and into a nightgown. For a moment I see her belly, the skin looking tight and shiny and stretched, bulge and distort fascinatingly as another pain grips her, and then there’s a splash as a flood of water hits the floor and Mama screams.

“Mary Alice, fetch a mop please.” Mrs Hollings sounds quite relaxed, and that makes me feel better as I run for the cleaning supplies. Mama had told me that when the water came it meant the baby would be here soon, and she had also told me that she might make a great deal of noise and I wasn’t to be frightened. It’s easier said than done though, it’s hard not to feel afraid as I hear another scream echo through the house.

I clean up the floor and bring in some more wood for the fire. The tiny baby clothes are warming on a chair beside it, and it gives me a queer feeling to think that soon there will be a real baby in them. My baby sister.

I’m not supposed to be in the room when Mama has the baby, but I can’t bear sitting alone in the kitchen and hearing the noises from the bedroom. I creep along the hallway and hover uncertainly in the door, seeing Mama on her knees on the floor, leaning over the bed with her face buried in her arms. Mrs Hollings is sitting quietly on the bed and when she sees me a frown flickers over her face.

“Mary Alice dear, you run along and play now.”

“No…Alice, come here.” Mama lifts her face, which is pale and shiny with sweat. She looks afraid, and as she holds out a hand to me another pain comes and her face distorts with the effort of not screaming. I rush to her and hold her hand tightly, waiting for the pain to pass and Mama to breathe again.

“Is it going to be okay?” Mama whispers to me. Her eyes are burning. “The baby Alice…is it okay?”

It’s like we’re alone as I nod, my eyes wide. “She’s just fine, Mama. You’re going to be just fine… _I know.”_

Mama nods, and then the whole energy in the room changes as she half rises from the floor and bellows. I’ve never heard my mama make such a noise! But it makes Mrs Hollings smile and she bends low over Mama’s head.

“That sounds good, lovey…we’ll have that baby out in no time. Up on the bed now, we don’t want it coming out on to the floor if we can help it!”

Mama heaves herself up onto the bed on her hands and knees, not letting go of my hand. Her face is intent as she makes another low, growly moan. “Stay with me, Alice.”

She’s holding my hand so tightly I couldn’t leave even if I want to, but I do my best to nod reassuringly and perch uneasily on the edge of the bed. Mrs Hollings slips her hands under Mama’s nightgown for a moment and I feel sick as they come away slicked with blood. But she doesn’t seem at all concerned, in fact she smiles at Mama and nods at me.

“You’re doing fine, lovey! We’re nearly there. We’ll soon see if it’s a boy or a girl,” she says cheerfully, and for a moment I feel surprised that she doesn’t realise the baby is a girl. But for once I don’t say anything, just meet Mama’s eyes and hold her hand a little tighter as she gives another bellowing push.

It seems that ‘soon’ is a relative term when it comes to childbirth. I never knew having a baby was such hard work! Mama grunts and groans and heaves, but as the golden sunlight of late afternoon floods the room there’s a final scream from Mama and then the thin, startled wail of a baby.

“It’s a girl,” Mrs Hollings says, handling the slimy, purple thing that’s supposed to be my sister, tying a string around the thick bluish cord that has connected the baby to Mama all this time and then snipping through it with her scissors . “She’s a big healthy girl too…well done.”

I can’t help but wrinkle my nose a little, but Mama is sobbing and glowing with happiness as she watches Mrs Hollings briskly scrub down the squalling infant. She wraps her little bottom in muslin and dresses her in the nightgown Mama sewed and then bundles her up in a blanket like she’s wrapping up a parcel before she hands her over to me.

“Here you go Mary Alice,” Mrs Hollings says cheerfully. “Say hello to your baby sister. Your mother still has a bit of work to do…come on Caroline, let’s get that afterbirth out.”

The baby has stopped crying now that she’s wrapped up tight. I sit cross legged on the end of the bed holding her carefully and gazing down at her scrunched up little face, and it’s like I feel my heart growing. _Hello baby sister._ She’s so beautiful! Hazy blue eyes look at me in bewilderment, and I run my hands over her dark hair. It’s sticky and there is some yucky goo and even a little blood caught in it, but I know it’s going to be curly. I trace my finger down the side of her face and peel the blanket back just enough so that I can see that it’s there- the little strawberry mark shaped like a fish.

I glance across at Mama, only to look hastily away as I see Mrs Hollings catching something huge and disgusting looking in the big mixing bowl. I can’t help but make a gagging noise, and Mama looks over at me and laughs tiredly.

“It’s okay Alice,” she says. “That’s just what helped the baby grow. How is she?”

“She’s beautiful,” I say. “Dark curly hair and a little mark like a fish. Just like I…”

I cut my words off abruptly. _Just like I said she would be._ No. I’m not going to say it. I can’t stop these things coming into my head, I don’t know how it works and I don’t know why I’m like this, but in the end it doesn’t really matter. The things I can do, knowing things that I shouldn’t know, seeing things that I shouldn’t see…this is dangerous. I don’t want to be like this, and if that means I have to learn to keep my mouth shut and learn to lie, then that’s what I’ll do.

I smile at Mama and kiss the baby on the head. “She’s just perfect Mama.” This baby won’t be like me. She’s going to be sweet and ordinary and everyone is going to love her. _Cynthia. Her name is Cynthia._ Iignore the insistent thought in my head and watch as the baby turns her face to my fingers, mouth opening and closing as she searches for something to latch on to. “What are you going to name her?” I ask quietly, and for the first time in my life I pretend not to know something that my mind already holds as truth.    


	5. Future Warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thanks to everyone who is reading along with this. I appreciate each and every comment and I do try and respond to them, so thank you very much!  
> I just wanted to say something at this point about Alice’s visions. I know that I’m a little inconsistent with the way Alice’s psychic powers are working right now (seeing things? hearing things? dreaming things? just having a thought flash into her head?) but I’m doing what I can with them based on what was written in the original books. In my opinion they’re one of the biggest plot holes in canon- despite supposedly having some parameters and restrictions on what she does/doesn’t see all the rules are just ignored when it serves to move along Stephenie Meyer’s plot.   
> So for my purposes, at the moment I’m working on the idea that Alice’s psychic side tells her things in various ways, but as a human she can neither direct nor control it and is finding a lot of it incomprehensible.   
> I also have to say that the poor girl is in for an awful lot of angst and drama! She really did have a rather horrendous time of it in her last human years- I’ll try not to make it too miserable!

_Mississippi 1918._

The priest’s sonorous tones ring out the final blessing, and then the choir takes up with the last hymn. I sing too, listening to the sweet, wavering voice of my nine year old sister Cynthia beside me, Mama’s lovely soprano on my other side and Papa’s deep baritone on her other side. The church is crowded today and everyone sings out gladly- the war in Europe is over and people are looking forward to what peacetime will bring.

As the final notes die away I grab Cynthia’s hand with a grin and the two of us slip out of the pew and dart towards the door, trying to beat the crush as the bulk of the crowd exits. We are amongst the first outside, and Cynthia giggles as I tug her over towards the gravestones.

“Come on Sissy,” I say cheerfully.

The two of us take a seat on the edge of one of the graves, watching the steady stream of people leaving the church and gathering in knots of friends and acquaintances outside to chat. A few moments later a hand is raised to us, and our cousin, Joseph, comes hurrying towards us.

I jump to my feet. “Joseph, my dearest, most favourite and beloved cousin of all…did you get it for me?”

Joseph’s dark hair is sticking out in all directions and his brown eyes are laughing at me. “Really, Alice! Do you only love me for the gifts I bring you?”

“You know that’s not true,” I say teasingly, reaching into the pockets of his suit. “But I’ve been waiting so long!” I withdraw my hand, which is holding a small carved wooden pony.

“That’s for you, Sissy,” Joseph says to Cynthia, who squeals and jumps up and down.

“Thank you!”  She takes the pony from me and sits back down to examine her treasure.

I step back from Joseph, and I’m sure my face is a picture of disappointment because apart from the pony his pockets were empty. “Couldn’t you get it?”

Joseph laughs. “Oh Alice…ye of little faith!” He digs into an inside pocket and withdraws his hand clutching a magazine, which he presents to me with a flourish. I give a delighted squeak and snatch it.

“Oh, you’re wonderful! I love you!” My eyes can’t leave the pages as I flip through them. It’s only a fashion magazine, but Papa doesn’t approve and won’t buy them, and I have to rely on the somewhat unreliable shopping habits of my cousin Joseph to supply me. “Oh Sissy, look at how pretty the dresses are! And there is a feature on Chanel and the work she is doing in France…now that the war is over there will be so many more beautiful designs coming out of Europe. Thank you Joseph my darling, I really do appreciate it.”

I beam at my cousin who grins back at me. He is eighteen, a year older than I am, and has been my favourite cousin since his family moved to the area when I was ten. “You’re welcome,” he says. His eyes scan the crowd. “Laura isn’t here today?” He’s trying to sound casual but I can see right through him. He’s had a crush on my friend Laura for the longest time.

“She’s visiting her grandparents in Hattiesburg,” I tell him. “She’ll be back next week though.” I quickly go back to my magazine, hoping he’ll ask me no more questions.

“We’re coming to your place for dinner today,” Joseph says.

Cynthia jumps up and takes his hand. “I can show you my scrapbook! And Alice has been drawing some new dresses she wants to make me and knitting me a new wrap.”

Joseph grins down at her. “Well that all sounds very exciting Sissy! Your papa is over in the buggy now, so we should go along with him or else we’ll have to walk. Alice?”

Reluctantly I hand him back my magazine. “Will you take this for me? You know how Papa is…it’s not worth the argument.”

Joseph stuffs it back into his pocket and the three of us walk over to where Papa has untethered the horse and is backing the buggy out.

“Where’s your mother Alice?” he calls irritably. “Can’t anyone in this family ever keep track of the time?”

“I’ll go fetch her!” I call, hurrying off to where I suspect Mama will be. Sure enough she’s over in the shade of the church porch with my auntie and the other ladies from the sewing circle, gossiping happily. Seeing me she smiles and when I stand beside her she slips an arm around my waist.

The other ladies smile and greet me too, most of them. Mrs Mackintosh, who has never forgiven me for the incident when her mother broke her leg, looks away, and one or two of the others don’t meet my eyes. I try not to let it bother me. After what happened when I was nine I have tried so hard to be normal and ordinary, and not let those vague feelings and dreams and hunches take on a force in my life. But for all my efforts I can’t control it, and I know that people call me odd and uncanny and will whisper stories about me. I know the words they use and I hate them.

“Papa is ready to go,” I whisper to Mama, and a brief shadow crosses her face.

“Of course darling,” she says, her face smooth again. “Good day ladies. I’ll see you all on Wednesday for sewing circle.”

Arm in arm she and I cross the churchyard and climb in to the buggy, mother sitting up beside Papa while I jump into the back with Joseph and Cynthia. When we reach home Joseph offers to tend to the horse and Papa gruffly agrees. He, Mama and Cynthia go inside, and I help Joseph back the buggy into the shed and unharness the horse. I set him loose in the orchard, and then Joseph and I lean on the gate, watching him and talking.

“Have you made up your mind what to do now?” I ask.

Joseph shrugs. He finished school just before the summer, but was waiting for his eighteenth birthday to enlist as a soldier. However his birthday last week coincided neatly with the end of the war, and there will be no such call for soldiers now. “I really don’t know, Ali. Father wants me to work on the farm with him. Well, that’s what Mother wants.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You? A farmer?”

Joseph, who gets much the same enjoyment from fashion and clothes that I do and is far more interested in films that farming, laughs comfortably. “I know! Ridiculous idea, isn’t it?” His laughter fades and he sighs deeply. “But truthfully, I’m not sure what else to do right now. I’m not clever enough to go to college, and with the war over and all the servicemen returning home it’s not going to be easy to find a job. I’ve been talking to a few fellows about some opportunities that might be available, but nothing is for sure yet.”

I smile at him sympathetically. “Still, at least you’re not going to be a soldier. That was an awful idea, and I’m so glad the war is over now and you’ll stay safe here in America!”

Joseph nods. “True, true. And what of you, Ali? Any luck persuading your papa to let you apprentice with one of the dressmakers?”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Not a hope! Papa says absolutely not, I’m to stay here and help mama with the orchard and try to find a husband or something. It’s not fair Joseph, I have such wonderful ideas for clothes and I _know_ I can make them but I don’t have enough money for materials and Papa is so stingy about it. He’s become so cross and horrid lately, I don’t know how Mama can put up with him.”

“Who knows?” Joseph says. “Who knows why our elders do any of the peculiar things they do?”

I giggle. “Do you think we’ll ever be proper grown-ups Joseph? I mean, you’re eighteen and I’m nearly that, and look at us!”

He laughs companionably. “Oh, I don’t know Ali. I’m sure it’ll happen one day. You’ll find a husband and I’ll find a job or something, and the next thing we know we’ll be as dreary and cross as our parents are!”

“Well, not my Mama,” I say loyally. “She’s not dreary and cross.”

“No,” Joseph admits. “Your mother is lovely.” His eyes follow the buggy that is turning into our driveway. It’s his parents, and his mother is scowling down at the two of us.

“What are you doing?” she calls out irritably. “Mary Alice, you should be inside helping your mother. Joseph, you shouldn’t be loitering about outside…go along inside, both of you!”

Joseph and I look at each other and laugh, and ignoring my auntie’s disapproving stare I nevertheless trot along inside and into the kitchen. But mama has the lunch well under control and tells me to go and play with Cynthia and Joseph and so the three of sit under the window at the end of the hall and play Snap and Happy Families until it’s time to eat.

Cynthia and I sit beside each other, sneakily trading all the foods we don’t like between us when no adults are looking. I eat her carrots and beans and she eats my chicken so that both of us have clean plates by the end of the meal. Joseph sits across from me making faces to try and make me laugh but that’s an old game and I’m an expert at controlling my face by now. Sissy isn’t though, and more than once I have to kick her on the ankle to remind her not to laugh or she’ll be in trouble.

Unfortunately, over dessert talk turns to Joseph’s future. My uncle Christopher is usually a quiet man and even now he doesn’t say much, but my auntie Lorna, my Papa’s sister, is vocal and determined that he should join his father on the farm.

“It’s a good living and his father could do with the help,” she declares. “You’re eighteen now Joseph and it’s time you settled down to start building a future.”

Joseph looks pained.

“What?” Papa demands of him aggressively. “You think your parents should support you indefinitely? You don’t think it’s about time you knuckled down to some hard work?”

“I’m just not sure farming is for me,” Joseph says, trying to be diplomatic. “I might want to do something else. I’ve heard there are lots of opportunities out west…”

“No!” I drop my fork with a clatter, and the whole table falls silent as they all turn and stare at me. “No!”

Joseph looks shocked. “Ali…”

My hand is shaking so much I can barely pick up my dropped cutlery, and I can’t look at anyone. “You can’t go west,” I whisper, not even sure where the words are coming from. “You can’t Joseph, something bad will happen if you do…”

“Alice!” Papa’s voice is low and dangerous. “Enough.”

I bite my lip hard to keep the words back. It’s been so long since I felt it like this, since this preternatural knowledge has rung so clearly through my mind…I’ve fought against it and ignored it, but there is no ignoring this clarion call of danger. _Joseph can’t go. Something bad will happen._

“Alice dear, perhaps you could start clearing the table,” Mama says quietly. As I gather the bowls, the china clattering faintly in my trembling hands, Mama touches me gently on the hip. “Take a moment to compose yourself out in the kitchen,” she says quietly.

It’s going to take more than a moment. I drop the dinnerware into the sink, barely noticing the crack I make in one of the bowls, even though it’s the good china for guests and I’m going to be in such trouble for that. _Joseph can’t go._ It’s all I can think of as I drop into mama’s chair and put my head in my hands, breathing deeply. _Joseph can’t go. Something bad with happen._

I hear the heavy footfalls approaching, and then someone grips my arm hard enough to make me cry out as they drag me to my feet. It’s Papa, and his face is red with fury as he shakes me hard.

“Alice, what have we said? How dare you say something like that to your own cousin! What do you think you’re playing at, you stupid girl?”

I choke on my own words. “I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…”

“John!” Mama is holding Papa’s elbow, trying to make him let me go although it only makes him angrier and his fingers dig deeper into the soft flesh of my upper arm. “Please John, don’t hurt her!”

“She has to learn!” he snarls, and then he releases my arms, only to slap me hard on the cheek.

“Papa!” I gasp. He’s been angry before, he’s shouted at me and doled out punishments, but he’s never, ever hit me.

“Enough.” He’s breathing heavily and his eyes are hard, but he makes no move towards me as I back away, my hand on my face. “Alice, we’ll have no more of your nonsense. You make the tea and bring it into the sitting room now. Caroline, we have guests.” He takes Mama firmly by the arm and propels her out of the kitchen ahead of him. “Now, Alice.”

Numbly I do as I’m bid, steeping the tea in the pot and setting out the cups and saucers on the tray. I can’t believe Papa hit me. I remember when I was a small girl he and mama used to laugh at my predictions and guesses, and tease me when they were right. When did it all change?

I don’t meet any of the adults’ eyes as I carry the tray to the sitting room and serve the tea, not even Mama. I hand around the cups and wait quietly until I’m dismissed to go back to the kitchen and make a start on the dishes. I hate washing dishes, but I tie on my apron and get to work with a sigh.

“Ali, there you are! I’ve been outside with Sissy, we wondered why you weren’t coming out.” Joseph comes in from outside, smelling like hay and sunshine, and smiles at me affectionately.

I give him a tired smile. “Papa told me to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen.”

Joseph takes a tea towel and begins drying the plates. “I’ll help you. You’re not mad because I didn’t tell you about going West, are you?”

I shake my head. “Not at all! I was surprised, that’s all.” I hesitate. “It’s not for sure though, is it? You don’t know that you’re really going?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Joseph grins animatedly. “I’ve been talking to Phillip Reed, his brother went out there two years ago and has been writing and telling him such tales! It sounds marvellous Ali, it really does.” He laughs quietly and drops his voice. “It sounds just SO much better than farming with my father!”

I try and smile back. He seems so excited, and I know how much he would love to go off and have some adventures. Joseph is so bright and funny and different to everyone here, he can’t possibly settle down to the life of a farmer and be happy. But _Joseph can’t go. Something bad will happen._ The words ring in my head, and the darkness swirls in my mind and all I want to do is scream at him of the danger and beg him to stay.

 


	6. Sewing Circle

“Alice! Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes!” I adjust the angle of my hat, squinting at my reflection in the mirror until I’m satisfied, and then snatch up my bag of knitting and rush outside. Mama is waiting in the trap, and she clicks her tongue impatiently at the horse as I scramble up beside her.

“Sorry!” I say breathlessly. “But this hat and my hair…”

“Never mind. You know I don’t like to be late for sewing circle,” Mama guides the horse expertly down the drive and whips him to a trot. “What did you bring to work on?”

“The wrap I’m knitting for Sissy,” I say. I think of my little sister, who is at school now, and smile.

Mama and I usually walk to sewing circle, but it’s being held at my aunt and uncle’s house and that’s too far. I don’t mind; it’s nice trotting along in the sunshine with Mama, talking lightly of all kinds of things. I can’t help but notice how pale and worried Mama has been lately, I have heard her and Papa arguing a great deal more frequently, and it’s good to see her smile at me and watch her cheeks pink up with the wind and sun.

“Joseph!” As we draw up to my auntie Lorna’s house I wave wildly to my cousin who is wheeling a barrow out of the barn.

Joseph shoves the barrow against the wall and strides over to me with a wave and a smile. He takes my hand and holds it as I jump down, and then he offers a hand and helps Mama. “Auntie Caroline.”

“Joseph, it’s lovely to see you again.” Mama looks from him to me. “Stay and chat with Joseph for a moment Alice, but then you must come inside.”

I nod, and turn back to Joseph with a laugh. “Look at you!” His clothes and boots are smeared with mud and he smells like the barnyard. I wrinkle my nose. “Goodness, what a farmer you make!”

Joseph gives me a good natured push. “Watch yourself!” He sighs theatrically as he leads the pony over to the hitching rail in the shade. “Oh Ali…this farming lark is grim. I am just not cut out for mucking about with dirt and animals and waking up at the crack of dawn.”

I smile at him sympathetically as he tethers the horse. “Perhaps you’ll like it better when you get used to it?”

He shakes his head with a sigh, and this time he’s not laughing when he looks at me. “I don’t think so. I don’t think I can keep doing this Ali. Philip and I have been talking and I think we’re both going to travel west and see what opportunities are there.”

The terror rises in my heart again. _Something bad will happen!_ “Joseph…” My voice trails off. How can I tell him of my premonition and make him understand how much danger he’s in? Years ago I made a vow that I would hide this part of me, that no one could ever know of that secret inner place where I know things, and I have lied and pretended to protect my secret. But it seems I learned my lesson of lies too well because now, when it matters so desperately, I don’t know how to tell the truth and make him see.

I twist the straps of my knitting bag hard in my hands. “I think you should stay here,” I whisper.

Joseph rolls his eyes at me and takes my elbow, guiding me towards the house. “I’ll miss you too, but do you _really_ think I could stay here? Really? You know I’m not the farming type!” He grins at me with a flash of his usual charm. “And just think Ali…once I make my fortune you can come and visit! Imagine how much fun we can have without my mother around, or without your papa there to stop you.”

Even feeling sick with fear I can’t repress my giggle. “Joseph!”

He chuckles. “Oh, you know they spoil all our fun!” He sighs heavily. “Now, I have to go back to cleaning out the barn, and you ought to go in and do your sewing circle or I’ll be in trouble for being a bad influence on you again!”

Standing on the top step I’m tall enough to reach forward and kiss his cheek. “You really are my favourite cousin.” He chucks me under my chin and I poke my tongue out at him before running into the house.

I don’t mind attending Mama’s sewing circle. It’s made up of ladies from church and although I’m one of the youngest ones and expected to just sit quietly and do my work and keep my mouth shut, there’s sometimes some interesting gossip to listen to. There are a few other girls that attend as well, my particular friend Laura among them, and we will sit together and talk when we can.

Laura isn’t there when I enter the sitting room though, so I greet my Aunt Lorna politely and take a seat on the footstool beside Mama. As there is another knock on the door I begin work on my knitting, mentally trying to calculate how much more yarn I’m going to need and how long it’s going to take me. I hate arithmetic and I’m no good at it either, so it’s not until I work my sums and decide I’ll have enough yarn that I look back up too see who has arrived. It’s my friend Laura, accompanied by her mother and an unfamiliar woman. The three of them are standing in the doorway of the parlour smiling at my Aunt Lorna and greeting everyone, but all I can see is the dark, shadowy figure behind them, stretching out skeletal hands to touch them.

The terror floods through me and without meaning to I open my mouth and scream and scream and scream.

“Alice!” It’s Mama, her arms around me as she presses my face to her shoulder to muffle my screams. “Alice…stop it!”

I choke off another scream, opening my eyes and looking around wildly. But there’s nothing there to see, just a circle of motionless ladies staring at me with shocked faces and wide eyes. No dark shadows, no mysterious figure…I pull away from Mama and clap my hands over my mouth as my whole body shakes. _What is happening to me?_

“Excuse us, ladies,” Mama says, struggling to sound calm. “I’ll just take her outside for a moment…”

Tears pour down my face as she takes my arms and gently but firmly leads me out of the room. I don’t dare to look at Laura as her pass her by, and although I don’t mean to I shudder as my arm brushes against the sleeve of the unfamiliar woman beside her. I don’t even wipe the tears away, just let them run down my cheeks and drip off my chin

Mama takes me to the back porch and sits beside me on the step, her arms tight around me while I cry. She doesn’t say anything, just strokes my hair like I’m a child no older than Sissy, and waits for me to calm down.

“What happened?” she says at last, letting go of me and looking at me in concern.

I shake my head helplessly. “I don’t know. I saw…” My voice fades away and I rest my head on Mama’s shoulder wishing I was anywhere but here.

“Please Alice,” Mama says quietly. “You must talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I _can’t_ talk about,” I say desperately. “Talking about it doesn’t help…it only makes it worse! You told me _not_ to talk about it!”

Mama’s face is pale and creased with anxiety. “Is it the old thing? Are you…seeing things again? I thought that it didn’t happen anymore!”

I close my eyes. “It never went away,” I say dully. “I just pretended so that I would stop making people so angry and afraid of me. I always know things Mama, sometimes I don’t know how I know and sometimes I really _see_ things, but they nearly always come true.”

Mama shakes her head and holds me tight, and I feel with a sudden bleakness that while she doesn’t _disbelieve_ me, she doesn’t want to _believe_ me either. To believe me, to accept that what I’m saying is true and accept that what I can do is real is too hard and frightening and requires more faith and courage than most people possess.

“I saw a shadow,” I say anyway. “Behind Laura, and the lady with her…it frightened me Mama. I don’t like being this way.”

Mama strokes my hair. “I don’t like it either Alice,” she says gently. “I really thought you weren’t troubled by these peculiar feelings any longer.” She sighs heavily. “And to happen at sewing circle of all places, in front of all those gossips!” she mutters, almost as if she’s forgotten I’m right there, and despite the tears still staining my face I giggle.

“I’m sorry Mama.”

There’s a rustling behind us and Auntie Lorna materialises on the porch, frowning down at me. “I should hope you _are_ sorry Mary Alice,” she says tartly. “I never saw such a display in my life, and from my own niece when she’s a guest!”

I bite my lip and wrap my arms around my knees, huddling into myself as Mama rises gracefully to her feet. “I didn’t mean to,” I say quietly.

“Well you need to learn to control yourself my girl,” Auntie Lorna says sternly. “That was a disgraceful outburst…”

“Lorna,” Mama breaks into her tirade. “I’ve spoken to Alice. You don’t need to scold her further.” She brushes the dust off her skirts and nods at me. “Come along then Alice, let’s go back inside and continue on our work.”

“Well, if she’s quite sure she can behave herself,” Auntie sniffs.

The last thing I want to do is go back in to the room where everyone will stare at me and I’ll practically hear their silent accusations. _Crazy. Freak._ But as Mama holds her head a little higher I realise I’ve embarrassed her too, and I feel so awful about that that I square my shoulders and brush back a stray piece of hair and walk proudly behind her and back into the parlour to take up my knitting.

There is silence as we walk in and take our seats, but Mama takes up her embroidery and smiles serenely as she turns to Mrs Fallon on her other side and begins speaking, and gradually the room is taken over by a low hum of conversation. With shaking hands I start to knit.

“Alice!” It’s Laura, crouching by my footstool. “Goodness, what was that all about?”

I try to smile at her. “Oh…I don’t know. It’s lovely to see you back. How was your trip?” Laura has spent the past six weeks visiting relatives.

“Look!” Clearly bursting with excitement, Laura thrusts her hand at me. A ring with a small diamond is glimmering on her left hand. “I’m engaged!”

Once again the darkness swirls. At least this time I don’t scream.

“That’s….when? How?”

I don’t think I sound appropriately congratulatory but Laura is too excited to notice. “While I was visiting! Remember I told you about Robert when I went to my relatives house last year? He lives next door and works with my cousin? Well we saw each other so much while I was there and he wrote to my father and it’s all arranged and I’m _so_ happy Alice. That’s his mother who has come to stay and came here with us today. Oh, it’s so much fun to get engaged! You must help me make my dress!”

I force my trembling mouth into a smile. “Laura, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

Laura is happy enough to sit beside me and describe every part of her rapid courtship and impending wedding. My head pounds and I don’t even pretend to knit, just nod periodically at her talk, a frozen smile on my face. I see the sideways glances from the ladies and notice, without caring, that no one will meet my eyes. It’s like being nine years old all over again, after Ivy spread all those stories about me…my eyes search the room and I find Ivy, as grown up as I am now, whispering with two of the other girls and my face burns as I know that she’s talking about me once again.

Time seems to drag by interminably, but at last there’s afternoon tea and then the ladies begin to take their leave. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved as I am when Mama apologises to Auntie Lorna for not staying to help clean up but claims a headache and bids farewell. I murmur my own goodbyes, head down, and follow Mama to the yard, where she briskly checks the pony’s harness and then climbs in. I look for Joseph but he’s busy with someone else’s horse and only waves, and then I seat myself beside Mama and we set out for home.

“Elizabeth tells me Laura is engaged,” Mama remarks.

Once again tears begin to course down my face. “She mustn’t marry him,” I choke out, hardly aware of what I’m saying. “She mustn’t, Mama, she mustn’t…” Hiding my face in my hands I start to sob.

“Is that what it was about?” Mama asks. “Alice, please try and explain!”

“I don’t know!” I shout. “Stop asking me, because I can’t explain!” I bite my lip and fight to control myself. “I’m sorry Mama, I’m sorry I shouted at you, but _I really don’t know._ I don’t know how it is that I think these things, and they don’t always come true so it could all be wrong anyway! But I’m scared Mama, and I don’t know what to do about this.” I take a deep breath. “I think Laura shouldn’t marry him. And I thought Joseph shouldn’t go west like he wants to…and I know they have no reason to listen to me because even I know how ridiculous I sound!” I swipe the tears off my face and lean against Mama’s arm, closing my eyes to the prettiness of the day and wishing I could close my mind to the darkness that seems intent on drowning me.

 


	7. Gathering Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- A word of warning, I suppose, for the next couple of chapters. Alice’s father is essentially an abusive sociopath, and Alice and her mother are going to have to bear the worst of it. I’m not into graphic descriptions of violence and abuse, but it’s certainly implied and talked about a little, so heads up on that point.   
> On with Alice’s unhappy tale…it will be a little less grim and angst filled eventually, I do promise that, but she’s still got a bit to endure before we get to that point.

I walk with Sissy as far as the school the next morning. She’s worried about her spelling so I quiz her on the words as we walk, although given my own appalling spelling record I’m not sure that it’s very helpful! When we reach the school I kiss her goodbye at the gate and continue on to the stores to run some errands for Mama.

In the store I hum happily as I find what I need. I enjoy shopping, and I spend a little extra time browsing, fingering the soft yarns and considering what I might make once I’ve finished knitting Cynthia’s new wrap. Eventually I force myself to leave the tempting displays behind and go to the counter. There I find myself standing beside Mrs Mackintosh, who looks at me with barely concealed dislike.

“How are you today, Mary Alice?” she says, loudly enough that the other people in the store look towards us. “Have you quite recovered from your little episode at the sewing circle yesterday?”

Oh, I hate her! “I’m quite well, thank you,” I say frostily, showing the card of buttons and the spools of thread I have in my basket to the storekeeper. “On the account please, Mrs Gates.”

“It’s just that it’s not quite _usual_ to start screaming for no reason in the middle of the afternoon,” Mrs Mackintosh continues, with a malicious glint in her eyes. “Really Mary Alice, we’re all quite _concerned_ about you.”

My mouth drops open. The nasty old gossip! Telling Mrs Gates in the store is the equivalent of putting up a billboard on the main street…e _veryone_ will know by evening that Mary Alice Brandon had a fit of hysteria at the Catholic ladies’ sewing circle. Snatching up my purchases I glare at her, but there’s really nothing I can say and so I stomp from the store, hearing the delighted murmur of gossip starting up behind me. I’m fuming at her vindictiveness.

Since it seems that my momentary lack of control in the face of my visions isn’t going to be allowed to discreetly fade away into obscurity, I shrug my shoulders and take the road to Laura’s home. I may as well go and talk to her- if they all think I’m crazy already, what will it matter if I give voice to it?

Laura is sweeping the porch, but she’s more than happy to lay aside her broom and talk for a little while. Arm in arm we stroll through the garden, and then take a seat on the wrought iron bench under the willow.

“Laura,” I say, plunging in before my courage deserts me. “I have to talk to you.”

“What is it? You sound very serious, Alice!”

“I don’t think you should get married,” I say flatly. “Not to him.”

“What?” Laura looks astonished. “What are you _talking_ about? You haven’t even met Robert!”

“I know.” I bite my lip, searching for the right words. “I can’t explain it either Laura, but I just have a really bad feeling about him. He’s not the right one for you. You can’t marry him.”

Surprise gives way to anger and Laura’s eyes narrow as she glares at me. “I don’t think that’s any of your business!”

“But…”

“No!” Laura stands up. “I don’t want to hear any more about your ‘bad feelings’ Alice. You’re being ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous!” I hate people mocking me, and I can feel myself getting angry too. “This marriage will be a huge mistake Laura! You have to believe me!”

“I have to do no such thing,” Laura turns on her heel and storms away, pausing for a moment to look back at me over her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you Alice, but I want no part of it. I _am_ going to get married, despite what you say.”

“Something awful is going to happen!” I stand up and shout after her. “You can’t marry him Laura, it’s all going to go wrong…”

“ _Shut up!”_ Laura’s face is red with anger. “You really are crazy, aren’t you? I should have listened to Ivy Mackintosh when she tried to tell me!”

All the fight gone out of me, I drop back onto the bench as Laura disappears towards the house. What have I done here? Shaking my head wearily, I slip through the back gate and begin the long walk home.

_At least you said something_ , I try to comfort myself. _Whatever happens, at least you will know you tried to warn her._ The image of the skeletal hands drifts through my mind and I can’t suppress the shudder. Oh, I’ve tried to warn her and whatever happens won’t be my fault…but how reassuring is that when the warning came from such a gruesome spectre?

I can’t dwell on it though. Not when it’s all so frightening and awful that I think I really might lose my mind if I let myself think about it too much! So when I reach home I spend what remains of the morning out in the orchard helping Mama, and then we spend the afternoon sewing together until Cynthia comes home from school. I find comfort in the ordinary domesticity of the tasks, and when I sit down with Sissy to help her with her homework I’m feeling quite cheerful.

My help with her words on our walk to school has had a somewhat predictable result and Sissy failed her spelling test rather dreadfully, so I help her write them out and then the two of us make up some rhymes and little songs for memory aids. We’re both giggling helplessly and tapping pencils on the table when there’s a bang from the front door and a bad tempered shout. _Papa’s home._ Cynthia and I glance at each other and our laughter dies away.

“John, hello,” Mama knows Papa’s in a mood and her face is tense as she greets him. “How was your trip? Come in to the sitting room, relax and I’ll bring you a drink…” She’s trying to diffuse the tension, but it’s not her Papa is angry with this time. He ignores her as he hurls his suitcase towards his room and marches to the kitchen.

“Mary Alice, what’s this I hear about you now?”

I stand up, gripping the back of the chair tightly as I push it gently back in to place under the table. “Hello Papa.”

He doesn’t return my greeting. His face is red and his eyes narrow as he scowls at me. “Do you know what it’s like to return from a business trip and be met at the train station by outrageous tales about my own daughter? Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”

“John, it really was nothing,” Mama says quietly. “Alice just had a moment at the sewing circle, that’s all. She wasn’t feeling well and…”

“Shut up!” Papa doesn’t even look at Mama as he pushes her away, and she stumbles backwards. Cynthia gives a tiny cry and rushes to her side, and I take a step backwards. “Well, Alice?”

I don’t know what to say. Really, there’s nothing I can say that won’t just make Papa angrier, so there’s no point in lying. “I saw something,” I say, so softly. “Something bad, about Laura…”

Papa roars at me. “Enough! What have we said about this rubbish?”

I can hear Sissy’s tiny cries as she clings to Mama and I want to comfort her, but I know if I go to her I’ll just drag Papa’s attention that way so I stay where I am, looking down at my hands.

“You better stop this nonsense, girl,” Papa says, and the quiet menace in his voice is somehow more terrifying to me than all the shouting. “I’ve had just about enough of you, with your feelings and your hysteria and carry on…you know where people end up who see things that aren’t true and hear things that aren’t there…”

“John!” Mama gives a strangled cry, but Papa’s hard face doesn’t soften.

“There are asylums for people like you Alice,” he says quietly. “And if you don’t stop this nonsense and learn to control yourself you’re going to find out all about them, and you’d better believe me when I say that you don’t want that.” Shaking his head he turns and leaves the room, shouting over his shoulder, “Bring me that drink now Caroline!”

Mama’s hands are shaking as she pours the drink. “I’ll just take this in to your father,” she says quietly, not meeting my eyes. “If you girls could set the table please…”

Sissy flings herself at me, and now she’s really crying. “Alice…”

“It’s okay,” I mutter automatically. “It’s going to be okay…” _Did Papa really just threaten to send me to the asylum?_ I hug her tight, stroking her dark curls away from her face. “Don’t cry Sissy, it’s fine. Papa’s just tired after his trip, you know how he gets.” I pretend I can’t hear him shouting at Mama in the front room.

“He said he was going to send you away!”

I force my face into a smile. “Oh, he won’t! He’s just angry about something, and you know how I annoy him. I just need to…to behave myself, that’s all. Take some lessons from you perhaps, no one is ever cross with you!” Oh, the lies that are tripping off my tongue! But I can’t let my sweet sister be frightened, I can’t.

Cynthia sniffs loudly. “I hate fighting.”

I kiss her forehead. “Me too! So let’s go and set the table so at least that won’t cause an argument!”

Dinner is a silent meal. Papa eats his plate and drinks half the whisky we have left, but Mama and Cynthia and I only pick at our plates. We’re all glad when it’s finished. Papa and Mama go into the sitting room and listen to the radio while Cynthia and I quietly clear the table and clean up the kitchen. We’re just finishing when we hear a horse coming up the drive, and it’s with a glad smile that I recognise my aunt and uncle’s old black mare, and my cousin Joseph astride her

 “Joseph!” I hang my apron up on the hook and hurry outside to the porch. “This is a surprise!”

He grins and swings down from the horse. “I’ve been at Philip’s place. But I had to come and tell you Ali…we’ve decided. We’ll be going out west.”

My stomach clenches. “You…really?” I sit down hard on the step and put my chin in my hands, looking up at him.

Joseph sits beside me, holding the horse’s reins loosely in his hand. “Come on cousin, be happy for me! It’s going to be amazing, we’ll have such fun. And I promise you can come and visit me when I’m settled.”

I try to smile. _Oh Joseph, how can I make you see?_ “I’m happy you can get away from the farm,” I say at last. “I just wish you didn’t have to go far away, that’s all. I have a bad feeling.”

“Oh, you and your feelings!” Joseph teases me. “I remember when we were little and you were always telling me about your feelings! Really though Ali, you’re being silly this time. Nothing will go wrong. I think the worst thing will be that I’ll miss you!”

I give him an impulsive, tight hug. “I love you Joseph.”

“You too Ali,” he hugs me back. “You’re my best friend. I promise I’ll write to you all the time, and as soon as I can I’ll have you out to visit me!”

“When are you going?” I ask hopelessly.

Joseph shrugs. “Not much point waiting really. Philip has some contacts and he’s sent some letters so we have a few things to explore. We thought we might go next week.”

My heart falls. “So soon!”

“Yes.” Joseph looks at me curiously for a moment, then looks away before saying awkwardly. “I heard some talk about you today. Are you really okay Ali?”

Oh. I sigh heavily. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy, don’t they?”

“Well,” Joseph looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Kind of! What _have_ you been doing?”

He won’t understand. He’s my favourite cousin, really my best friend, but he won’t understand. No one does. I shake my head at him, feeling the howl of loneliness in my chest. I just want someone, _anyone,_ who will believe me and accept me for what I am!

“Never mind,” I say at last. “It was just something silly at sewing circle. Tell me more about your trip?”

I lean against the porch railing and gaze out into the deepening twilight and only half listen to my cousin talk, because for all he sounds so pleased and excited something inside me is telling me he’ll never reach his destination. And there’s nothing I can do to stop him trying. 


	8. Goodbye Joseph

I feel their eyes on me in church the next Sunday. The story of my outburst at the sewing circle has been told around every table in the parish by now, and as I hold my head up and sing the final hymns I am miserably conscious of being the object of gossip. Beside me, Papa’s face is a mask of sternness.

As the final notes die away, I spin on my heel and head for the door. I don’t even wait for Cynthia, it’s not until I’m sitting on our usual gravestone that I realise she’s not with me. She trails over several minutes later, scowling at me as she tries to bend her hat back into shape after it’s been bashed about in the crowd.

“You didn’t wait for me,” she says accusingly.

I feel the guilt swamp me. “I’m sorry Sissy. I just wanted to get out of there quickly.” I take the hat from her and straighten the silk flowers on the brim, fluffing the bow for her. “There you go.”

Sissy takes the hat, and then undoes all my good work by twisting the flowers in her fingers, not looking at me as she says hesitantly. “They’re saying things about you.”

My lips tighten. “Who?”

“Some of the ladies from the sewing group,” Cynthia scuffs her feet and dashes a quick look my way. “It’s not true, is it? All the things they’re saying?”

How can I answer that? What can I tell her that will reassure her without being a lie? How can I explain what goes on inside my head without frightening her or laying an unnecessary burden of anxiety on her young shoulders?

“I did get upset at sewing the other day,” I say slowly. “Something scared me that probably shouldn’t have. But whatever they say, I’m not crazy.”

Joseph overhears the end of the conversation. “You’re not crazy? You sure about that, dear cousin?”

Cynthia gives him a very out of character glare. “Don’t you say rubbish like that Joseph!”

He clutches his hands to his heart in mock sorrow. “Oh Sissy…don’t be angry with me!” He glances at me and then his face turns serious as he realises that Cynthia’s truly upset and I’m not smiling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. You know I was only joking.”

“I know you’re only joking,” I say quietly. “But they’re not.” My gaze travels to the clusters of people talking and laughing by the church door, and I wonder glumly how many of them are, or have been, talking about me.

Cynthia sits down beside me and puts her arm around my waist. “Well, I _know_ you’re not crazy,” she says stoutly. “They’re just nasty old gossips!”

I giggle at my sweet, loyal baby sister. “It’s okay.” I can’t help looking again, noticing with a pang that Laura is standing by her mother and her future mother in law and determinedly not looking at me.

Joseph is looking at her too, and his face is regretful. “I hear she’s getting married,” he says casually.

“Yes,” I sigh. “It’s going to be a terrible, terrible mistake…” I stop abruptly. Really, why am I not better at lying and hiding my thoughts after all this time? “We’re coming to your place for dinner today,” I say to Joseph, in an effort to change the subject.

“You’ll be able to help me pack!” he says cheerfully. “Philip and I are leaving tomorrow.”

I’m glad that Cynthia jumps up to hug Joseph and that neither of them notice my face twist at his words.

“I wish you didn’t have to go!” she exclaims.

She’s not the only one. I have to struggle not to cry as I sit on Joseph’s bed that afternoon and watch him pack his suitcase, even as I scold myself for my histrionics. The idea of him going for a soldier never raised this spectre of fear inside my heart…why now?

There are no answers. Not when I help him pack, and not when I hug him fiercely at the end of the day and bid him farewell. No answers the next day either, when I sit on the orchard wall for an hour, just to wave as they go past.

Much to my surprise they’re not in Philip’s trap but instead are driving an automobile. It’s a little rusty and dilapidated, but it’s still a car! Philip pulls to a crooked stop in the middle of the road and I jump off the wall and run towards them.

“Ali, darling!” Joseph climbs out and wraps me in a hug. “Just look…aren’t I travelling in style?”

I laugh. “Where did it come from?”

Philip, Joseph’s flashy friend, grins at me from the driver’s seat. “Beauty, isn’t it? It’s our first job- we’re driving it down to its new owners so it will get us quite a way.”

“But you can’t drive,” I say to Joseph, who only rolls his eyes at me.

“How hard can it be?”

I hug him close again. “Are you sure you have to go?” I whisper into his ear, hating the tremble in my voice.

“I am going Ali,” he says gently. “Promise I’ll send for you to visit me as soon as I can though. And I’ll write to you as soon as I have an address, and you must write back. Promise?”

I kiss his cheek and promise, but it’s a promise I never keep. Because the letter that comes to my aunt and uncle’s house two weeks later is not from Joseph but from a priest in a distant parish, and it tells us that my cousin Joseph is dead. Killed, along with his companion, in a car accident. My cousin, my best friend in the world, is gone.

  We cannot even bury him. It’s too far for the body to be sent back, so he is buried alone, in a graveyard out west that none of the family will ever see. We don’t even have the comfort of a burial, of a gravestone to visit and lay flowers on when we remember him. All I have are my memories, and the warning I tried to give him that beats in my heart like a drum. _Don’t go. Something bad will happen._

Mama and I work late into the night to sew black dresses for me and Sissy to wear to the requiem Mass and the saying of the Rosary. I’m so sad that I don’t even care that my sallow skin and straight dark hair will make me look a fright dressed in black. While the dresses are made with our usual skill and attention to detail, I don’t have the heart to even try and make them pretty.

“Is this why you didn’t want Joseph to go?”

It’s late, Papa and Cynthia are asleep, and at first I don’t think I can have heard Mama correctly. But as I look at her she calmly stitches on and repeats her question. “Is this why you didn’t want Joseph to go? Did you see this?”

The tears start in my eyes. “I didn’t know this would happen. I felt that something bad would happen, but I didn’t know it would be _this._ ” For a moment I bury my face in the stiff black fabric I’m working with. “I wanted to be wrong,” I say, my voice muffled. “I miss him Mama, I miss him so much and I feel so guilty.”

Mama touches my shoulder gently. “You can’t blame yourself Alice.”

I do blame myself though, in the tangled, overwrought depths of my mind. To _know_ , and yet not be able to stop it…to feel the approaching doom and yet be able to do nothing but watch as death swoops in and takes my loved ones? If only I’d tried harder, or done more…

“I just wish I understood what is happening to me,” I whisper. “I have all these feelings Mama, and I don’t know what’s true and what’s only imagination. And it’s all so horrible now! I used to get feelings about the weather, and about the baby, and about how many kittens the barn cats would have over at the farm and what songs Sister Mary Alice was going to play on the piano, but now it’s terrible things like Joseph and Laura being in danger. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it, or to make people believe me.”

“I believe you Alice,” Mama says quietly. “I’ve always believed you.” She looks at me with a small, sad smile. “You were always special. When I was carrying you I used to have these dreams…I saw you in them so clearly. It was like you were talking to me, even back then, and when you were born it was like meeting an old friend.”

I look at her in amazement. “But you always said not to talk about it!”

Mama’s head drops. “I know I did, and I’m sorry. But it makes your father so angry, as you know, and I wanted to protect you. I believe you have a gift Alice, but I fear that it’s not one that will make your life easy. It would be better, so much easier for you, if you could suppress it.”

“I would if I could,” I say honestly, because I would like nothing more than to stop these haunting, terrifying visions and leave this lonely place of foreknowledge. “I don’t like being this way Mama. No one likes me, or the things I try and tell them. Joseph laughed, and Laura got angry.” I can’t stop the tears then, not when I think about my laughing, careless cousin and what that laughter has cost him. If only he had listened!

Mama holds me and she cries too. I know there’s nothing she can do for me, not really, but at least for the moment having loving arms and an understanding heart on my side makes everything easier to bear.

I hold Sissy’s hand as we walk into the church for the Rosary the next evening, my amber rosary beads looped around the fingers of my free hand. Sister Mary Alice gave them to me at my Confirmation, and I find comfort in the thought of her, and her belief in me.

Auntie Lorna and Uncle Christopher are at the church door, soberly greeting people as they arrive, accepting the clasped hands and condolences. As we approach Uncle Christopher nods as us seriously, but Auntie Lorna scowls and narrows her eyes at me, and I feel myself shrinking back.

“Lorna, Christopher,” Papa says to them, and behind him Mama murmurs her own greeting.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Auntie Lorna ignores my parents and focuses on me, her face ugly with a mix of anger and grief.

“I came for the vigil,” I falter. What have I done now?

“We don’t need prayers from the likes of you,” she snaps. She looks up at my Papa. “I know she’s your daughter John, but with all her bad feelings and evil predictions of harm to my boy, and now what’s happened…”

“You can’t blame Alice for Joseph’s misfortune,” Mama says quietly. My heart thumps painfully as I see Papa take her arm, pinching cruelly, and force her to step away from me.

“I don’t know that I can’t,” Lorna hisses. “All I know is that I don’t want a thing to do with your damned daughter and her curses and devilment, and I’ll not have her in there poisoning the air while I’m trying to mourn my son!” She’s nearly shrieking, her face mottled with anger, and all I can do is stand there, trembling with shock.

“I understand, Lorna,” Papa says. I know he doesn’t really like me, but even so it hurts that he doesn’t defend me against such heinous accusations. Papa’s eyes are like flint as he looks at me. “You go home, Alice.”

Cynthia whimpers and clings to my hand, but Papa takes her wrist and twists it ruthlessly until she is forced to release me. “Cynthia, go into the church with your mother.” Mama takes Sissy’s hand and with an apologetic look at me she bows her head and walks quietly into the church, and then I’m alone.

“Go home,” Papa says to me again. “You heard your aunt. I’ll deal with you later.”

I have no choice but to stumble down the church steps and turn my reluctant feet towards home. I feel the cool amber beads in my fingers, and with an aching heart I start the prayers for my cousin by myself. Maybe they’ve turned me away from the church, maybe they all hate me and believe the worst, but no one can stop me mourning my beloved cousin and friend and I’ll pray for his soul by myself. No matter what they say I am not evil, not a witch, not from the devil…I remember Sister Mary Alice telling me years ago that I was made in God’s image, and even as I walk alone through the gathering darkness I feel comforted. He will hear me, and even if nothing can be done to save me, maybe He’ll take care of my Joseph.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen._


	9. Down the Rabbit Hole

That night, the dreams start. The man in the hat, a shadow in the forest, bringing death to someone else I love. My dreams are filled with pounding heart beats and gunshots and screams, and I wake with dark circles under my eyes and hands that tremble with unnameable fears. I don’t know who and I don’t know when, but someone is going to be hurt. _Something bad is going to happen. Help me._

I feel as though Joseph’s death has become a catalyst of sorts for me. That vision becoming reality, losing my dear cousin in this way, has tipped me from where I was teetering on the brink, and now I’m falling down the rabbit hole and there’s no way to stop it. I’m falling, and one day I’m going to hit bottom and heaven help me when I do.

Mama worries about me. I know she does, as the nightmare riddled sleep leaves me pale and jumpy and tearful during the day, and I wish she wouldn’t. Papa is at home for the week and his constant drinking and increasingly erratic behaviour is already more than Mama should have to deal with. She doesn’t need me, with my ghosts and hauntings and terrors, to cause more trouble but I feel helpless to stop it.

Helpless is what I feel more than anything else. Helpless as Papa shouts at Mama and hits me for not being what he wants in a daughter. Helpless as the shadow man laughs in my dreams and haunts my days with his unknown menace. Helpless as I walk through town on my errands and feel the mocking, wary eyes of the people on me and hear their words, echoing in my head as the pain of them pierces my heart. _Freak. Witch. Changeling._

All I can do is wait, numbly, for the truth of my dreams to reveal themselves, knowing that when they do the sky will fall.

It isn’t the dreams though, in the end. No, before I discover what they mean something else happens that only lends strength to all the rumours and stories and mysteries surrounding me.

I’m in the store, sitting cross legged on the floor in the corner leafing through knitting pattern pamphlets, out of sight of the ladies talking with Mrs Gates across the counter. I have been there for so long my bottom is growing numb on the hard wood floor and the ladies have forgotten I was even in the store. I’m debating between a complicated lace pattern cardigan or a pair of fancy cabled mittens and matching hat for winter when the bells above the door ring out. Glancing up I see my aunt Lorna entering and with a grimace I shrink even further back behind the tub of umbrella I’m sitting beside. I don’t want her to see me. By turning me away from the church she may as well have posted an advertisement in the parish newsletter announcing that she believes me to be evil, and I don’t know what she might do or say if she sees me here now. I’m frightened of her and of the scene she might cause, and here in the store there is no one to defend me and nothing to constrain her tongue.

“I’ve just come from the Morgan’s house,” Auntie Lorna says, her voice low and laden with meaning. “You won’t _believe_ the news. Such terrible things!”

I pause in my reading, cocking my head to listen. The Morgan’s house is my friend Laura and her family, and suddenly I can barely breathe with the weight of terror that has settled in my chest. _You can’t marry him. The wedding will be a mistake. Something bad will happen…_

“What’s happened, Lorna?” Mrs Gates asks avariciously. She’s the biggest gossip!

“Well, it’s not that I want to tell tales,” Auntie Lorna says piously. “Far be it from me to spread gossip. But I’ve heard it straight for Anne Morgan’s own mouth, and everyone will know soon enough. It’s about Robert, young Laura’s fiancé from Hattiesburg.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “What do you think? _The man is insane, and only yesterday he killed his entire family and then hung himself in the barn!”_

The chorus of shocked exclamations from the ladies drowns out my own whimpering cry. I want to flee, but the darkness is swirling and my heart is thumping and I’m afraid that if I try and stand I’ll either throw up or faint. And it’s imperative that they not know I’m here.

Auntie Lorna is clearly gaining great enjoyment from being the bearer of such spectacularly dramatic tidings. “Yes!  Turns out he’s always been a bit queer in the head but the family have kept it a secret. Understandable of course- that kind of insanity can only be hereditary. But it’s all out now. The man’s body was discovered swinging from the rafters in the barn by their hired man when he came to do the evening feeds for the animals. When he went to the house to raise the alarm he found the rest of them. His mother that was staying at the Morgan’s only the other week, his father, the younger brother…all of them dead in their beds with their throats cut!”

I see it in my mind, the blood soaking in to the bed clothes and the blue-white skin of the bodies and the low, buzzing hum of the flies as they crawl, and dig my fists into my eyes. _No, oh no, oh no…_ I hear my name, said in a low, furtive voice and even though I know I’ll hear nothing good I can’t stop my ears from pricking up.

“You know that uncanny Brandon girl told Laura Morgan not to marry him?” I don’t even recognise the voice of the lady talking. Who is she to bring my name in to this horrible tale? “She told her that she’d be _sorry_ if she did.”

Well, _wouldn’t_ she be sorry? At least now she’s escaped the danger of this man and what he was capable of doing. I only warned, I didn’t cause this…

There’s a low murmur of disapproval, and then Mrs Gates speaks. “I know she’s your niece Lorna, but…”

“Oh, I’m well aware of the problems with that girl!” My aunt’s voice is hard, and there is no shred of kindness or understanding in her words. “My poor brother is just about at his wits end with her and all her hysteria and devilment. I’ve told him he needs to take action- you mark my words, I told him, there’s something _wrong_ with that daughter of yours. I don’t know if she’s just crazy or if she’s in league with the devil, but she told my Joseph that something bad would happen to him if he left town. And now she’s told poor Laura Morgan that she’d be sorry if she married and look what has happened!”   

I don’t care if they see me now. I have to get out of here. I jump to my feet and the tub of umbrellas tips and falls to the ground with a crash that seems to reverberate through my head as I run, hearing the ladies scandalised voices as they realise I’ve overheard them.

I don’t even look where I’m going, my only thought is to get _away_ ,but without planning it my feet take the familiar path to the Morgan’s house. I stop at the gate, leaning on the fence while I catch my breath, and then walk unsteadily up the path. I know Laura has been angry with me, but she must be so upset and she’s been my friend for years. I know what it’s like to be at the centre of nasty gossip, maybe I can help her.

I should know better than to think that the truth of my premonitions will change anything. If anything, my premonitions coming true only elicits greater fear and people hate what they are afraid of. Laura is no different.

She comes to the door to me, her face an expressionless mask, and my words of condolence and offers of whatever help or comfort I can offer die in my throat as she stares at me.

“I don’t want you here,” she says tonelessly. “You, with your feelings and curses and witchery…get away from me. I never want to see you again.”

My heart aches. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should have listened, when they told me about you. ‘Be careful of Alice Brandon’ they told me, ‘Funny things always happen around Alice!’ But I didn’t listen, and now look at me.” Laura looks past me, almost as though she’s afraid to meet my eyes.

I try and find something to say. “You must know I had nothing to do with what happened,” I start. “And at least you didn’t marry him…” My voice trails off as I think what would have happened if Laura had married him and been in that house.

“You think you know everything,” Laura says in the same flat, dead voice. “I don’t know why you didn’t want me to be married but you thought you could say your curses and cast your spells and it would all happen as you wanted it to. But you know nothing Alice…I’m going to have a baby, and now because of you it’s going to be the bastard child of a murderer. You said you were my friend, and now you’ve ruined my whole life…”

Hearing the howl of terror in my head and the laughter of the shadow man of my nightmares, I turn and flee. I have done nothing, but the burden of blame is being laid squarely at my feet and I’m so afraid. _You, with your feelings and curses and witchery…say your curses and cast your spells…_ I know what they used to do with witches, and who says humanity has come any distance at all from that form of punishment and retribution?

_Oh, why is this happening to me? Please, someone, anyone…help me. Make it stop._

I reach home without seeing anyone else, my breath coming in sobbing gasps after my headlong run and tears streaking my cheeks. I’ve lost my hat and the pins have come out of my hair so that it falls down my back. All I want is my Mama, with her loving arms and gentle belief in me, but she’s not there. No one is there, and the loneliness swamps me like a wave.

I calm myself as best I can, brushing my waist length hair with shaking hands, trying to make order of my scattered thoughts at the same time as I make order out of my tangled dark hair. I am nearly done when I hear the wheels of the buggy out the front and the angry roar of my Papa, calling my name.

I have no choice but to go to him, standing trembling on the front porch as he alights from the buggy and strides towards me. I see the rage radiating from him and I feel myself cowering, but nothing has prepared me for the way he seizes me by my hair and slams me hard into the porch railings.

Dimly, I hear Mama scream from the trap, but my hands are in my hair trying to stop him from scalping me and I can’t see past the lights flashing in my eyes after the blow to my head. “Papa…”

“You stupid _bitch_ ,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing…you are _ruining_ this family with your premonitions and insanity!” His hands fisted in my hair he shakes me so hard my teeth rattle and I can’t stop the scream at the searing agony that washes across my scalp. “Well enough is enough. I’ve washed my hands of you- things are going to change.” Tossing me aside like I’m nothing, he cracks the buggy whip across my back and storms back down the steps, taking the reins with a cruel jerk at the horse’s mouth and leading him back towards the stable.  

I curl into myself, eyes shut tight. My temple throbs and aches where it hit the solid wood railing, my scalp tingles as though all my hair has been ripped out by the roots and there’s a streak of burning pain across my back from the whip.

“Oh my darling!” It’s Mama, her hands stroking my shoulders and the tremble of tears in her voice. “I’m so sorry Alice, I’m sorry…”

I can’t open my eyes to look at her. It’s not her fault- what could she do? What can either of us do, against his anger and strength and hate, but endure it?

“I’m sorry I can’t protect you from him,” Mama whispers brokenly. “I’m sorry you have to bear all this alone….my dear darling girl, I love you so much. I wish there was something I could do for you to make this go away. Please darling, sit up and let me see if you’re hurt.”

I open my eyes, but I don’t sit up. Because behind my mama I see the same dark spectre with his reaching, skeletal hands that I saw at the sewing circle, and now I know what my dreams mean. I know who the shadow man from my dreams is coming to take away from me next.

_Mama! Please, oh please be careful! Don’t let him hurt you!_

This time I don’t scream. Instead, my eyes roll back in my head and I gladly surrender to the nothingness that engulfs me. _I’m sorry Mama. I can’t save you._


	10. When I Understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and commenting- I appreciate everyone’s feedback on this. Alice has never been my favourite character so I wasn’t sure how I’d go writing her- I’m actually enjoying her and getting to like the character a lot more as I go along.  
> I do kind of want to apologise for writing this incredibly traumatic and depressing life for Alice- it’s not quite what I intended when I began to write it! I’ve taken the storyline from what Stephenie Meyer gave in the guide, and it didn’t really seem this bad until I started elaborating on it. I’m cutting parts out of it now because I just don’t want to keep writing this misery for her! I promise you that there’s an end in sight to this much angst (although perhaps not drama) and if you hang in there Alice will definitely have some good things happen in her future.

The weak, pale moonlight is the only source of light in the room, and I’m glad for the shadows that hide my face. Beside me in the bed Cynthia is curled in a ball, burrowing into me as hard as she can, shaking with the force of the sobs she’s trying to suppress. I hold her tightly, wrapping my arms around her gangly, little-girl body, but saying nothing. There is nothing to say that will make this okay.

We can hear the shouting. Papa has been drinking and is ugly in his drunken anger. I don’t know what started this, Mama had put me to bed after I fainted on the porch and I have remained here all afternoon, cocooned in my quilt and pretending to sleep in an effort to shut out the world. I didn’t even go to the table for dinner, unable to face my father with the purple, swollen lump on my temple still throbbing painfully in time with every beat of my heart. When Mama had helped me in to my nightgown I had caught a glimpse of my narrow back in the mirror, the bare skin marred by the livid red line of the whip lash.

“Oh please, make him stop!” Sissy’s tears are making my nightgown wet. “I don’t want him to hurt Mama!”

I kiss her hair fervently and hold her tighter. I want to tell her that it will all be okay, that Papa won’t hurt Mama and that everything will be fine tomorrow, but I can’t. The spectre with his skeletal hands walks behind my eyes and the laughing man of my dreams is now haunting my waking hours and I have no words.

I think Papa hits Mama in the end, because there’s a crash and a cry before the shouting stops. Sissy moans in terror in to my shoulder and shakes so that I can barely hold her. I’m frightened too, so frightened that in the end I slip from the bed and tiptoe silently along the hall until I can steal a glimpse in to the sitting room. Papa is slumped in the armchair, eyes half closed as he stares at the newspaper in his hand but I look past him until I see Mama, sitting in her low chair by the fire, sewing. I think I can see the tracks of tears on her face, but I’m too far away to be sure and I don’t want to draw attention to myself by slipping any closer. I bite my lip and turn back to my room.

Sissy is still trembling and hiccupping with tears and I know she’ll take forever to fall asleep if I can’t calm her down. I light the candle and cuddle up beside her on the bed, letting her rest her head in the crook of my arm while I read to her softly. We’re sharing Anne of Green Gables, and I read until Sissy’s eyes close and she falls asleep with a smile on her face. Even then I continue to read silently to myself, escaping from the threat of nightmares that sleep brings and finding solace in the simple beauties of Anne’s fictional world.

“Alice, why are you still awake?” It’s Mama, wearing her nightgown and with her hair brushed and braided down her back. She comes and sits on the bed beside Sissy, reaching across to brush my hair back from my face.

“You’re still awake,” I point out. I close the book, my finger marking my place.

Mama smiles sadly. “Papa is asleep now. I just wanted to make sure my girls were okay.” She leans down and kisses Cynthia’s sleeping face. “Goodnight, sweet baby girl,” she whispers.

“She was frightened by the shouting,” I say softly. “We both were. Did he hurt you Mama?”

Quickly Mama shakes her head. “Oh no, Alice, you mustn’t worry about me.” Her eyes on me are intent. “I’m going to try and work something out for you,” she says suddenly, and her voice is pinched with anxiety. “I know that things here are not good for you. When he…hurt you today…oh, I’m so sorry my darling! I promise you I will try and work something out so that you can go away from here. Somewhere safe Alice…”

I let her take me in her arms, and I lay my head on her shoulder and breathe in the smell of her. Lavender and baking bread, scents that have always meant love and security to me, but now offer little comfort at all. Because I know that love is not going to be enough to keep us safe, not now that the monster is inside our home.

“Please be careful Mama” I whisper. “I feel that we’re all in danger now.” I can’t tell her that I have seen the shadow looming over her, but I have to warn her somehow.

Mama kisses me, and Sissy sighs in her sleep and nestles a little closer. “I will,” she promises me. “We’ll both be careful Alice.” She rises to her feet and moves towards the door. “I must go now, or your father may be wondering where I am. Sleep well darling.”

I smile at her and extinguish the candle, but it’s a long, long time before I am able to let sleep overtake me.

The house is silent when I wake. I dress quickly and tiptoe to the kitchen, but when I look at the clock I realise it’s later than I thought. Papa will be at work and Sissy will be at school already, and since Mama’s shopping basket is gone from its usual place she must have gone out too.

I peer at my face in the mirror. The bruise on my head is dark but the swelling has gone down and I can hide most of the damage with my hair. I’m pinning up my plaits in the back when I suddenly feel the floor falling out from beneath my feet and I’m plunging into the darkness of a nightmare.

I see the man in the hat, but rather than haunting the shadows he’s standing in the sunlight at the side of a road in a place I recognise. His car is behind him and he’s looking down the steep drop off at the side of the road, nodding in satisfaction. My stomach heaves as the perspective shifts. It’s as though I’m standing beside him looking down, through the settling clouds of dust to see the splintered remains of a buggy far below, the piebald pony thrashing and screaming as she tries to escape the harness, blood staining her hind legs. More blood, dampening down the dust as it spills from a crumpled figure that has been thrown from the wreck. My ears are echoing with screams because it’s all so sickeningly familiar…

_“Mama!”_

The vision shimmers and disappears. I’m down on my hands and knees in my own bedroom and I know I’m too late, but I run anyway. In bare feet and with my hair half done I run like I did the day of the stones when I was a child, heart pounding and breath sobbing, hearing the sound of the screaming pony and the laughter of the man in the hat. _“Mama! Mama, I’m coming!”_

It’s there though, just as I saw it. The railing above the steep fall is broken and I fling myself through the gap, slipping and sliding on the gravel as I half climb and half fall down the slope. My hands and feet are bleeding but I don’t care, don’t care because there’s Mama and oh, it was all true and I’m too late and once again I haven’t been able to save the one I love.

I crouch beside where Mama is lying. She must have been thrown from the buggy and her neck is bent at an impossible angle, the ground around her head dark with blood. _Oh Mama, I’m so sorry…I wanted to save you._ I touch my finger to her cheek. She’s still warm and I give a low, keening moan as I gently close her eyelids. I let myself sit beside her, taking her limp, still hand in my fingers and holding it gently. There is nothing I can do for her now.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen._  

I don’t know how long it is before there’s a shout from the railing, and then a man I recognise vaguely from church scrambles down the slope towards me, sending the rocks and gravel sliding ahead of him.

“What’s happened? Dear God, is that Caroline Brandon?” He goes to push me aside but then he looks at Mama and knows, and shakes his head. “Are you hurt, girl? Mary Alice, is it?”

I stare at him dumbly and he shakes his head again and calls up to someone else on the road. There’s an answering shout and then I hear the crack of a whip and the creak of wheels as whoever he was with heads for town.

The man goes to the pony, who has long since given up efforts to free herself, and cuts her free from the harness. But her hind legs are soaked in blood and as she struggles to stand I see the pale ends of bone poking through the skin. I feel sick and shut my eyes, so I don’t see him take out his gun and hold it to her head. I hear the noise though, and to my terrified and overwrought mind it seems to toll the end of the world and I scream. One long, high pitched reverberating wail that echoes around the valley and then turns to sobs.

“There, there,” the man mutters, and awkwardly pats my shoulder. His hands are rough and the fingernails dirty, but I’m so grateful for his kindness that it makes me cry more. _Mama…please don’t be gone. What’s going to happen to me without you?_

Time blurs. People come, the police and a doctor who looks at the lump on my head and seems to think I was in the buggy with Mama. I don’t say otherwise. In fact I’m so frightened that I don’t say anything much at all, just let the tears run as they cover up my mama and then take her away, and then bundle me up and push me up to the road. It looks like half the town is there. I hear them murmuring as they see me, but I look down and say nothing as I’m guided to a car and then someone drives me home.

Papa is there, and Auntie Lorna. Papa’s eyes on me are calculating, and I feel icy fingers of fear on my spine. _There is something more to this._ I step away from him, trembling.

“Go to your room, Alice,” he says quietly, and almost gratefully I turn and hurry away.

Cynthia finds me in our room, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, when she’s brought home from school. She throws herself at me, and I do my best to comfort her, knowing that nothing will really help. I am so heartsick myself and I’m nearly a grown up…how much more difficult is it for my baby sister to lose her mama? I hold her tight while the two of us cry, and guilt floods my soul because I knew of the danger and still couldn’t save her.

I can hear a lot of noise and bustle in the house as people come and go, but I stay quietly in our room with Sissy. It’s not until the evening shadows lengthen and I hear her belly growling with hunger that the two of us venture out.

Papa is sitting with Auntie Lorna and Uncle Christopher in the front room, and when he sees the two of us he frowns. “Cynthia, I want you to go home with your aunt and uncle,” he says. “I shall be busy sorting things out and you need to be out of the way.”

Sissy grips my hand and presses close to my side. “Can’t I stay here with Alice?”

Papa shakes his head impatiently. “No. Go and get your things, your aunt is ready to leave.”

I feel like I’m watching from a great distance as Sissy goes and packs some clothes into the small leather suitcase. Despite these people, my family, close around me I feel all alone in a world of frightening shadows and ghostly spectres and visions of hell. _Please, someone help me._ I watch numbly as Uncle Christopher tosses the case into the cart and lifts my sobbing sister in after it, and as I stand on the porch and watch them leave I have the disconcerting feeling that I am saying goodbye to my baby sister for the last time.

I serve Papa some dinner, my hands shaking and my heart pounding with the fast, rhythmic beat of terror. I don’t even know why I am so afraid. Not then.

After he has eaten I clean up, but I can’t bring myself to eat anything. Instead I go to my room and sit silently by the window, staring out blindly into the gathering dark and waiting. _Something is going to happen, and then I’ll know._  I listen to Papa, hearing the clank of glass as he drinks his way steadily through another bottle of whisky, and I wait.  The moon rises and the clouds blow away, and still I wait. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I know it is something important, something terrible. _Tonight, everything is going to change._

It’s probably close to midnight when I hear the car in the drive. It’s an unfamiliar, dark Model T and I peer into the darkness when the driver climbs out. It’s a tall man, but between the pale moonlight and the hat pulled low over his face I don’t know if it’s someone I know or not.

Papa seems to know him though. He steps out on to the porch and the two of them talk together in voices too low for me to hear. I watch as Papa reaches in to his pocket and hands something over to the man- I see him flick it in his hands and realise it’s a bundle of money. The conversation continues in serious tones, and then they both nod and shake hands.

There’s a noise on the roof. A squirrel maybe, or one of the barn cats chasing bats. It doesn’t really matter what causes it, what matters is that it catches the men’s attention. Both Papa and the stranger swing their heads around and our eyes meet across the porch as they see me watching them, and then my heart drops because I finally _know._

He’s not a stranger, not really. No, he’s the terrifying man in the hat from my dreams, the man who forced my mama’s buggy off the road and down the cutting, the man who stood high on the hill and watched her to make sure she was dead. And now he’s here with my Papa…

_“You,”_ I breathe, reeling in the sudden horrifying clarity. _You wanted her dead and that’s why you’re giving him money, because he killed her. And you know that I know you did it, and now it’s my turn…_


	11. The Beginning of My End

Before they can react I do, ducking back from the window and looking around wildly. _Oh no, oh no, oh no_ … I hear Papa’s harsh voice, shouting my name, and for a moment I freeze like a rabbit in a spotlight. But self-preservation is a powerful instinct, and a moment later the adrenaline floods my system and despite the terror I force myself to run.

I duck through the kitchen and out into the rear yard, scrambling over the fence and bolting across the fields. I can hear them behind me, banging through the house and thundering heavily across the porch but I don’t look back. I have to get to the woods. If I can get there, in amongst the trees, I can hide and maybe I’ll be safe.

I just make it. I slow my headlong flight and move through the trees at a fast walk, deciding that the risks of slower movement are outweighed by the benefit of being able to move a little more quietly. I can hear Papa and the other man somewhere behind me, swearing and shouting as they move through the woods getting slapped by branches and stumbling over fallen logs and rocks and into rabbit holes. I’m grateful that I’m still small and light footed as I slip easily through the woods, and after spending so much time here with Sissy and Joseph I’m familiar with the landmarks. I head down the slope, knowing that I’ll reach the stream at the bottom of it and then I’ll know where I am.

At the stream I pause, listening hard. I can still hear them. Papa sounds furious, but their footsteps are fading and after a moment I’m sure they’ve given up coming after me and are returning to the house.

I crouch by the stream, dangling my fingers in the water and trying to think. What can I do? I can’t go back to the house, not with the danger that Papa now poses to me. I need to find somewhere safe…

_Sissy._ I think of my sister and my heart lurches. My sweet baby sister- oh, he can’t hurt her, he can’t! I jump to my feet and wipe my wet hands on my skirt, and determination overcomes the fear in my heart. I’ll go to her now, and make sure she is okay. I can’t think beyond that, but it’s a start.

It’s a long walk. For miles I stumble through the night, grateful for the clear sky and moonlight that allows me to see my way. I follow the stream until it heads towards town and then I veer off, walking through the fields and marking my way by landmarks that seem unfamiliar and menacing in the night. I’ve walked this way many times with Joseph, or alone on my way to or from his house, but never this late at night.

I am expecting my aunt and uncle’s house to be dark, everyone long asleep. I am assuming I will have to sneak inside and find Sissy, most likely asleep in the tiny spare room beside the kitchen, and try and wake her without either of us making enough noise to rouse any adults. But much to my surprise there’s a light burning in the living room and shadows moving behind the curtains, and halfway across the yard I pause uncertainly.

It’s my undoing. As I hesitate there’s a movement from the shadows and I’m seized in an iron grip, a hand clapped hard across my mouth to silence me. It’s the man in the hat, and there’s nowhere to run now.

“I’ve got her, John!” he calls.

As Papa approaches and my fear intensifies I struggle, kicking and squirming to free myself. I open my mouth and bite hard on the man’s fingers, tasting tobacco and dirt and making my stomach heave. He swears and drops me, but before I can run he kicks my feet out from beneath me and I fall heavily onto the cobblestones.

“Alice, Alice, Alice…” Papa murmurs, his voice sounding as smooth and slippery as poison. “Dear child. We’re here for you now…don’t upset yourself any further.”

I stare at him, terrified, as the man in the hat hauls me roughly to my feet. “Papa…” I breathe weakly.

He shakes his head, but before he can speak Auntie Lorna is behind him. “So she did turn up here,” she says coldly.

I meet her eyes pleadingly. “Please help me,” I whisper desperately. “He hurt Mama and he’s going to hurt me too. Please don’t let him.”

Papa shakes his head. “See Lorna, it’s just as I told you. The child’s lost her mind with the blow to the head and the grief.”

Auntie Lorna sniffs. “It’s not as though she had all her wits about her before that, John! No, there’s been something seriously wrong with her for some time now, and no one can fault you for the decision you’ve made now. I think it’s best to put her away before she does any more damage, or contaminates that innocent little one in there with her madness.”

Put me away? The asylum? No! I let loose a great howling scream of terror and from the cages the dogs bark, but the faces surrounding me are devoid of any sense of compassion. Someone approaches and then I see the face of the doctor I had seen only that afternoon.

“Please don’t do this!” I gasp, fighting the rising tide of hysteria. “Please! He wants to hurt me…he hurt my mama and now he wants to hurt me! Please don’t, please…” My words catch in my throat and I choke on my own horror as the eyes watching me don’t change expression, and I know that whatever Papa told them has done the trick and even though I speak truth all they hear are the ravings of a mad girl.

“It’s all right,” the doctor says to me. “Come along now Alice, we’re going to take you somewhere safe and comfortable.”

“No!” I struggle to get away from the harsh, unforgiving hands that hold me. “You don’t understand! He knows that I know…I see things and they come true! I know what he did and that’s why he wants to do this! Please, oh please, listen to me!”

The doctor looks at Papa and nods his head. “I see what you were saying, John. Girl’s delusional…you say this has been going on for a long time?”

I scream again as Papa nods, his face a mask of feigned sadness. “Yes. Her mother protected her and took care of her, but she’s been quite unstable for years. When I spoke to you last week I told you of the incidents at the ladies social group and the wild accusations she’s been making. I fear that her mother’s death has broken what grip on reality she still had.”

The doctor digs in his bag. “Yes, it sometimes happens that way. I’ve spoken to Lorna here, and some of the other people who have known Mary Alice, and there’s more than enough evidence that the girl’s mind is unbalanced. Under the circumstances, I think the asylum is the only place for her.” He withdraws his hand, holding a wicked looking syringe. “I’ll give her this now John, and then I’ll take her over to the hospital. You’ve already signed the papers, so there’s no trouble there.”

“No, oh….NO!” My voice rises to a shriek as the needle pierces my skin and something that flows through my blood like ice is injected in to me. For a moment I feel only pain, then the ice turns to warmth and I feel my body melting, sinking down, down, down into the soft and quiet and soothing nothingness.

_Oh Mama. Why didn’t I see this coming before it was too late?_

                 ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I struggle to open my eyes. I’m warm and sweating, lying on something slightly soft, and the smell of carbolic stings my nose. My head aches.

The ceiling above me is grey, the paint watermarked and cracked. I’ve been staring at it for some time before I realise that my eyes are open. I lick my dry lips and try to swallow but I’m too thirsty. I need water.

With arms that feel like lead I force myself to sit up. For a moment the world spins sickeningly around me, but I breathe deeply and it settles, and I can finally look at my surroundings. Immediately a flood of fear washes the muzziness from my mind and brings everything back, because I’m in a tiny room with the walls and floor padded with filthy quilting and there’s nowhere else it could be but the asylum for the insane.

I scramble to my feet. While I’ve been drugged someone has taken my own clothes and replaced them with a scratchy cotton shift that barely falls to my knees. The pins have been taken out of my hair so that it hangs loose down my back and falls across my face, and someone has taken the thin gold chain with the cross that I always wear around my neck.

There’s a tiny window in the door but it’s too high for me to see out even when I jump. I whimper, feeling the walls of this tiny room pressing in on me and pace anxiously. But there’s nothing to see and the padded walls absorb all sound so that even when I scream there is no one to hear me. Finally, when I think I can’t bear it anymore, I sink back to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees, pressing myself into a corner and closing my eyes to wait.

I don’t know how long I huddle on the floor. There is no way to measure time in this room without windows or clocks, only my quick thudding heart offers a rhythm to count by. I do know that by the time the door opens my tongue feels furry and swollen with the most intense thirst I’ve ever felt, and the cotton shift is limp and clinging to my sweating skin.

“Good morning Alice.”

I look up warily. It’s a man standing in the doorway, someone I don’t know, and looking at his white coat I guess he might be a doctor.

“How are you feeling today?” he continues in his deep, smooth voice.

I rise to my feet. “May I please have a drink?” I ask softly.

“In a moment. Come with me, please.”

I hesitate briefly. I don’t trust this man. But staying in this filthy, claustrophobic little room isn’t an option I want to take up either, so squaring my shoulders I walk across the room and step cautiously out the door. I’m in a long corridor, grey stone walls and bare wooden floor illuminated by the sunlight falling through the windows, a row of closed doors hiding who knows what terrors.

“I wouldn’t even think about running away,” the doctor says quietly, his face watching mine. “You’re here because you need help, Alice, and we are going to make you well. I suggest you cooperate with the process and do what is asked of you in order to make it as painless and simple as possible. If you choose to be rebellious or difficult…well, make no mistake Alice, we have the means to compel your cooperation, whether you wish it or not.”

I swallow. His voice doesn’t sound unkind, in fact he sounds as indifferent as if he is reading out a laundry list, but my imagination takes flight at the thought of what they might do to me here and it takes all I have to suppress a shudder.

He walks quickly along the corridor and I make haste to follow. I can’t help but feel exposed and vulnerable in the thin cotton shift I’m wearing- it’s scarcely a modest length and leaves most of my arms bare, and they’ve not left me with any undergarments either. This hallway is not as stuffy as the room I was in and my sweat damp body is starting to feel cool. There is nothing I can do but follow the doctor though, and my heart pounds as I wonder what he is going to do with me now.


	12. So Much to Lose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I love hearing feedback on what I’m doing here, and welcome all comments.   
> Now, a note on mental illness and the historical inaccuracies of the next couple of chapters. The treatment of the mentally ill has a long and pretty gruesome history, particularly in residential facilities. Physical and sexual abuse were rife, patients were starved and experimented on and basically treated like animals or worse in a lot of places. I’ve made up Mayberry, but I’ve tried to reflect realistic conditions for a psychiatric hospital of the period. Hence a warning- Alice is not treated exceptionally well, there is allusion to rape and some violence and medical procedures, although it’s not detailed.  
> The electric shock treatment Alice receives isn’t historically accurate. Shock treatment like that wasn’t reported in medical journals until 1938, so Alice is about 18 years too early for it! (Seriously, Stephenie Meyer- Google is your friend!) So although I’ve pretended that the doctors involved in her treatment are doing an experimental procedure it is stretching credibility a bit, but Alice’s shock treatment and subsequent loss of memory are pretty much central to her character and I’ve just had to go with it.   
> And now, if I haven’t completely turned everyone off my depressing story- (and I hope I haven’t, there’s a lot of angst and drama in the asylum) there’s only about four more chapters til we get vampire Alice! So it’s worth hanging in there for that, or at least I hope so.

_Mayberry Mental Asylum, 1919._

The door he finally stops in front of is painted green and has a small nameplate on it, engraved _Dr Reyes._ He opens it and gestures me inside, and keeping as far from him as I can I sidle through the door.

It’s not a large room, and the bars over the windows leave everything in it striped with shadows. There is a desk, a bookcase crowded with books and papers, several file drawers, and an examination table. My eyes are caught by the jug of water on the side table, and I make an involuntary move towards it.

Immediately his large hand snakes out and grips my upper arm. It hurts, and I cringe away from him. “I just wanted a drink,” I say plaintively. “I’m so thirsty.”

Dr Reyes frowns at me, but then releases my arm. I can see the outline of his hand print, red and angry looking, on my skin. “Sit up on the table please Alice. I’ll get you some water.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I scramble up on to the table, blushing as the shift exposes even more of my legs. He pours a drink and hands it to me, and I gulp the slightly stale water down gratefully. “Thank you.”

Sitting down behind the desk he taps his fingers together and eyes me thoughtfully. I’m squirming uncomfortably under his gaze before he begins to speak. “I’m Dr Reyes Alice, and you’ve been brought here to the Mayberry Mental Asylum. Do you know why?”

It’s hard to catch my breath. “Papa wants me out of the way. He hurt Mama, he’s bad and he knows I know. I’m not crazy.”

“Alice, I’ve been told you hear things, see visions that you believe predict the future…do you think a sane person believes these things?” The doctor sounds stern.

“But it’s true!”

“No Alice, it’s not.” He shakes his head. “We have several treatments available here for people with troubles such as yours, and I think my colleague and I may be able to do something to soothe your troubled mind.”

It feels like the whole world is mad and I’m the only sane one. “I don’t want treatment! You don’t understand, it’s just that Papa wanted Mama and me out of the way for some reason…” I stop, breathing hard, knowing that it’s useless. He sees what he wants to see, and sitting up here with bare legs and my hair snarled and tangled I know I look like the mad person he believes I am.

There’s a knock on the door and another white coated man comes in. Ignoring me completely he nods at Dr Reyes. “Good morning. You’ve done the initial examination?”

Dr Reyes shakes his head. “No. She only regained consciousness a short time ago- she’s a little thing and the dose was probably a little heavy handed.” He looks over at me. “She seems lively enough now. Alice, this is Dr Atherton.”

Dr Atherton doesn’t speak to me, but steps to my side. He takes my face in his hand and tilts it so he can peer into my eyes. He looks at my temple, pushing my hair back to examine the bruise there. “She did this in the accident?” His touch is not cruel, but it is firm and seems careless of my comfort.

“Yes.” Dr Reyes stand beside his colleague. I feel like an animal as both of them peer and poke at me and weigh me on a scale, Dr Reyes writing notes on some paper the whole time.

“Take this off and we’ll get the measurements,” Dr Atherton says, pulling at the thin cotton covering me.

I jerk away. “No!”

I may as well have not spoken. Dr Atherton merely reaches round my back and pulls loose the tie, yanking the fabric over my head.

“No! Don’t!” I clutch at it, desperately trying to cover myself. I scramble backwards on the examination table, only just saving myself from falling off it.

Dr Reyes frowns at me. “Come now Alice, behave yourself! Dr Atherton and I need to measure you and draw some blood- either lie still and let us do it or we’ll have to restrain you.”

I can’t. I can’t let them. I shake my head. “Please, don’t!” There are tears in my eyes and I fight not to let them fall. “Please…”

It does no good, pleading. My fear doesn’t move them to pity or compassion, and even fighting achieves nothing. I’m too small and weak, and instead of letting me free the two of them simply lift me bodily into place and before I know what is happening I’m strapped naked to the table, restrained at wrist and ankle so that I can barely move. I can’t stop the tears then, but the two of them methodically measure every part of my body, murmuring to each other as they go. They draw several vials of blood, and I whimper at the needle and close my eyes against the sight of the little glass tubes filled with the ruby red liquid.

“Her father signed the papers?” Dr Reyes questioned.

Dr Atherton nodded. “She’s ours to do what we will with. You know how difficult it is for the families…I believe her father is letting it be known that the girl died.”

My mind reels. Papa is telling people I’m dead? How can this have happened? And if he’s telling everyone I’m dead, then how am I ever going to be able to go home again?

“So, visions, voices…sexually promiscuous?” His hands go between my legs and I twist as far as I can from him and scream. “Hmm, don’t think so. Paranoid delusions from childhood according to her father. She’s a good candidate for the experimental protocol I think.”

Dr Reyes nods as the blackness of terror begins to swamp my mind. Experimental protocol? Oh god, what are they going to do to me?

“She’s smaller than I’d like. She’s eighteen, but her height and weight are well below average,” Dr Reyes says.

“We can work around it,” Dr Atherton says. He picks up a hank of my hair. “This will all have to go. I’ll have one of the nurses shave her, ready to start tomorrow. No point waiting.” He turns away from me. “I think that’s all for now.”

Once he is gone, Dr Reyes looks down at me. I’m blushing scarlet at being naked in front of this strange man, but he’s looking at me with the calculating eyes of a scientist. “I will undo the restraints now, Alice, if you’re ready to do as you’re told.”

Humiliated, I nod. I am realising how utterly and completely I am at the mercy of the doctors here. I don’t move until the thick, heavy leather cuffs are unbuckled from around my wrists and ankles, and then I stand awkwardly beside the table, my arms folded across my small breasts.

Yet another man comes in, and this one does look at me with a gleam in his eyes that makes my stomach turn. He’s not wearing a doctor coat, and with a flash of intuition I know that this man is a whole different kind of danger.

“Thank you Baxter,” Dr Reyes says, as the man hands him over a folded pile of clothes. These he passes across to me. “Dress yourself now, please Alice.”

As quick as I can I pull on the clothes. Another loose, pullover shift, but this time I’ve also been given a pair of shapeless pyjama trousers to wear. Much to my discomfort the man, Baxter, watches me dress, and I find myself glaring at him.

“Alice, you go with Baxter now. He’ll take you down to the Matron. We’ll be starting your treatment tomorrow and we need to get rid of all that hair beforehand.” Dr Reyes sits down at his desk and begins writing furiously, evidently dismissing us.

I’m shaking as Baxter takes my arm and drags me in to the hallway. I am so frightened I can barely breathe and my legs are trembling. I try to pull away but he only holds me tighter, bringing me closer to him and burying his nose in my hair, breathing obscenely.

“Such a pity they’re going to shave all this off,” his coarse voice mutters. “All this hair, snip snip gone…what about this hair…” And his hand snakes down into my pants and cups me between my legs and I fall apart.

It is all too much. Too frightening, too awful, too brutal and ugly and dehumanising and I can’t deal with it anymore. With a scream from the very depths of my soul I rip myself out of his grip and run. I make it only to the end of the hallway, where a locked door stops my flight, and then they come for me. Baxter, Dr Reyes, another orderly carrying the restraints. I know it’s hopeless, but I can’t give in to them, and as they try to hold me I fight like the cornered wild animal I’ve become, biting and kicking and scratching and screaming as they reach for me. Even when they have me trussed up in the restraints so that I can no longer move I scream, until Dr Reyes looms close with his shiny syringe and then there’s a stabbing pain and ice in my veins and I feel myself falling in to the nothingness.

                   ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~  

I’m in another unfamiliar room when I drift back to awareness. I’m still in the restraints, lying on my back on a hard floor with the ceiling high above me. I wriggle and squirm desperately, trying to sit up, but it’s impossible. I make a quiet noise of irritation which turns into a shriek of surprise as a face suddenly appears in my field of vision.

“You’re awake.”

I stare up, trying to calm my panic. It’s not the doctor, or one of the orderlies, it’s just a woman wearing the same pyjamas that I am, a dirty knitted cardigan over the top. She’s pale and her skin is marked with scars, and her scalp can be seen clearly through the thin, patchy shaved hair on her head. I am relieved when I turn my head to the side and my cheek touches my hair that is spread out on the floor. They haven’t taken that off.

The girl is watching me with great interest. “Are you really awake?”

“Yes.” I’m sweating inside the restraint jacket. “Can you take this off me?”

Her eyes widen in horror and she starts to back away. “Oh no! The doctor is the only one who can do that!”

“Okay, okay,” I say quickly. “I’m sorry. Never mind.” I take a deep breath. “Can you help me sit up then?”

She seems to consider my request, and then nods. “Yes. I can do that.” She grabs me and drags me upright, propping me against the wall like a sack of potatoes. Her hand reaches out and strokes my long hair. “This is so pretty.”

I don’t like her touching me, but I’m so grateful that there’s finally someone who is not trying to hurt me that I just ignore it for the time being as I look around. I’m in a small room with dull stone walls and scarred wooden flooring. There is a row of six iron beds along one wall, and the windows that let in the light are all heavily barred. Besides me and the girl crouched by my side there are three other women in here. An old lady rocking a doll in the far corner and two others who appear to be asleep.

My mouth is parched. I wonder how long I’ve been unconscious, or if the drugs make me so thirsty. The girl is still stroking my hair, and I look at her uncertainly. “I’m Alice,” I say at last.

For a moment she looks at me blankly and I wonder if she even understands what I just said. What’s wrong with her? Why is she even here? I am aware that I’m in a mental asylum and I can feel the anxiety rising. Who knows what these people are capable of?

_But you’re here too_ , I remind myself, _and there’s nothing really wrong with you. You’re no crazier than anyone else, so maybe they’re not either._ It’s a thought that only goes partway to reassuring me.

“Alice,” she repeats. “Alice. My name is Dahlia.”                                                     

“Is there some water here?” I ask. “I’m very thirsty.”

“I’ll go and get some,” Dahlia promises, shambling away.

She’s gone so long I’ve begun to think she’s forgotten me, but eventually returns. Unfortunately she’s hanging her head and looking guilty, and is accompanied by a cross looking woman wearing a starched nurse uniform. The matron? There’s also a man with them, small and stooped, wearing the clothes of a patient.

I look up at her warily. “May I please have some water?”

The woman sighs. “Ellis, undo the leg straps.”

The man crouches down beside me. I press my back hard against the wall, but he at least has no nefarious intentions and merely unstraps the leather cuffs from my ankles. I flex my feet, feeling them tingle and sting as the blood flows back in to them. Ellis takes hold of the restraint jacket and hauls me up, where I stumble on my numb feet. Only the wall at my back stops me falling back to the floor.

Matron turns on her heel. “Come on then.”

I limp after her as quickly as I can. My feet hurt, and the too-large restraint jacket is heavy and awkward. “Can you take this off please?” I ask plaintively. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

“I’m not taking that off until I know you’ll behave,” Matron says gruffly. “I don’t have time for messing about with naughty little girls today.”

We reach another room and she points to a hard upright chair. “Sit down there.”

Gingerly I do so. “Please can I have some water?” I hate the begging note in my voice, but I’m desperate. Dahlia has not followed us in here, but Ellis has and much to my relief he is soon at my side with a glass of water, holding it up to my lips so I can swallow. It’s messy and awkward and some of it spills down the front of me, but slaking my thirst is such a relief I don’t even care. “Thank you.”

Matron slaps a bowl of water and some soap on the table beside me. At the sight of the cut throat razor in her hand my eyes widen and I can’t hold back my whimper of terror. Her eyes narrow.

“Dr Atherton is going to start your treatment tomorrow,” she says brusquely. “Shock treatment, and he can’t be having all that hair in the way. We need to get it off.” She places the razor on the table and takes a pair of shiny silver scissors from her apron pocket. “I don’t want any trouble from you, understand? The hair is coming off whether you like it or not, and if you make it difficult it’s only going to be worse for you. You wouldn’t want me to slip and make a mistake with that razor now, would you?”

I can’t take my eyes off hers, hard and pitiless, and I know with a sickening certainty that she means what she says. They can do what they want with me, and there is no one to care and no one to save me. My head bows and I close my eyes, feeling the tears seep out from underneath my lashes as I listen to the noise of the scissors, the snap of the blades closing and the soft whisper as my hair falls lightly to the floor. I can feel the long strands of it tickling my toes.

After everything else they’ve done to me, it’s losing my hair that comes closest to breaking me. Matron clips it close with the scissors and then soaps my head and scrapes it with the razor as I sob soundlessly, feeling as though I’m losing everything as I lose my long, pretty dark hair. _Joseph, Mama, Sissy, home, safety, love..._ There is nothing left. I’ve lost everything.

 


	13. The Experimental Protocol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- These were not the easiest chapters to write. I just wanted to say that psychiatric hospitals have come a long way since the mental asylum days that Alice is living through, and the shock treatment Alice undergoes bears no resemblance to the way ECT is handled and used today.

Matron removes the restraint jacket once my hair is gone. I do nothing to antagonise her and when I shiver as my sweat dampened skin is hit with the evening air she churlishly hands me a sweater. It’s enormous, could probably fit two of me inside it, but I just roll up the sleeves and say nothing. I wish I had socks.

It seems that I’ve been unconscious most of the day, since after my head is shaved I’m directed towards a dining room where they’re serving the evening meal. It’s a tiny, cramped room and Dahlia, who comes and sits beside me, tells me that it’s just for females. Most of the inmates here at Mayberry are men, but they eat and sleep separately. After my experience with the orderly Baxter I’m glad to hear it.

Dinner is supposed to be stew, but it’s more water and cabbage than anything else and despite the fact that I haven’t eaten for at least a day I can’t bring myself to take more than a mouthful. Dahlia eats it once she’d finished hers and smiles at me cheerfully.

I don’t take the medication they give out after dinner. They don’t check to see if it’s gone, so when no one is looking I spit the pills into my hand and slip them into the rolled up sleeves of my sweater. I’ll get rid of them once I find a bathroom, which is my next stop after dinner. I wonder what happens now.

I don’t have to wait long to find out. Despite the fact that it’s still only early evening and the sun has barely even set, I’m ordered to return to the room. I notice that Dahlia and the other women are starting to look vague and speak in slurred voices, and I guess it must be the medicine starting to sedate them. I drop my shoulders a little and keep my head low, not wanting anyone to realise I didn’t take mine. Somehow I think it’s going to be important that I’m not in a drugged sleep tonight.

I nearly panic when I hear the click of the lock and the bolt being pushed back on the door. I don’t want to be locked in anywhere! With the door locked and the windows barred I’m truly trapped, and I pray that there won’t be a fire. I sit up on the bed I’ve been given, the one at the far end, and look down the row. Everyone else is asleep already, two of them with restraints on to keep them in their beds, and I shudder.

Finally alone, I jump out of bed and prowl about the room. I’m actually quite glad for my ridiculously enormous sweater because the room is quite cold as I investigate. Not that there’s much to see. Six iron beds with striped mattresses and no sheets, only scratchy old blankets that won’t do much for warmth. There are a couple of wooden benches, and being as quiet as I can I drag one over to the window, standing up on it on tiptoe so I can see outside.

Oh, it’s nice out there. For a moment I feel myself relax. The sun has just dropped below the horizon and they sky I can see is streaked with red and purple and orange. The asylum is surrounded by lawns and gardens, with woods beyond that. I wish I could go outside.

I can see someone in the distance, pruning a bush. He’s much too far away to possibly be able to see my face peering out from behind the bars, but as I watch him his back jerks upright and he appears to look straight at me. Without even meaning to I feel my face break open in a smile, and for the first time since I’ve been in here I feel something other than fear. Whoever he is, this man is good and he’s going to be my friend. I raise my hand and press my palm against the glass, and a long moment later he raises his hand in acknowledgement. 

                               ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The treatment starts in the morning. I’m not given breakfast, and as Ellis leads me to the treatment room I feel sick with lack of food and apprehension. There is a bare, hard bed in the centre of the room, surrounded by several machines with leads and cords coming off them. I don’t recognise anything.

“Up on the table Alice, and take your sweater off,” Dr Reyes says, and unwillingly I scramble up. I pull the sweater over my head but hold it tightly against my middle- in this place where so much is unfamiliar and I own nothing, every little object takes on great significance.

Dr Reyes comes over to me, and brushes a hand across my bare scalp. “Excellent,” he murmurs. “Lie down now Alice. I’m going to put your arms and legs in the restraints…just so you don’t fall off the table or hurt yourself.” He pulls the sweater from my arms and tosses it towards the far wall and silently, knowing I have no other choice, I lie back and limply allow him to tug at my wrists and ankles as he straps them tightly down.

Dr Atherton appears by my side, and without a word to me he begins attaching some of the cords and leads to my head. I twist my head, trying to see what is going on.

“What are you doing?” I ask, wishing I didn’t sound so pathetically frightened.

“Lie still,” he snaps.

Dr Reyes at least answers me, although what he tells me does nothing to reassure me about the process I’m about to undergo. “You’re very lucky Alice,” he says seriously. “Dr Atherton and I have been working on some experimental procedures, using electrical currents on the brain to control and eliminate the kind of mental problems you’ve been having. Delusions, hearing voices…you’re lucky you were brought here Alice, when we might be able to do something for you. Wouldn’t it be nice to no longer be troubled by such voices and visions as you’ve been plagued with? We’ve been working with Dahlia, whom you met yesterday, and we’ve had quite a success with her.”

I stare up at him in silent horror as they finish attaching electrodes to my head. Dr Atherton pulls a strap across my forehead to bind my head tightly to the table, and Dr Reyes pulls the wrist and ankle restraints so tight that it makes me whimper.

“Now, now, don’t make a fuss,” he scolds mildly. “The body can react quite violently to the electricity you see…we need to make sure you won’t hurt yourself.” He looks across at Dr Atherton. “Are we ready now?”

“Yes.” Dr Atherton’s voice comes from somewhere outside my range of sight. “Just put the gag on her.”

“Oh, please no!” I gasp. “Don’t cover my mouth…I promise I won’t scream!”

Dr Reyes approaches me with a stiff piece of leather. “Oh, it’s not about screaming Alice. We need something in your mouth so you don’t bite your tongue off. That wouldn’t be good now, would it?”

I yelp as he pushes the leather in between my teeth. It tastes foul, and I can feel the dents that other people’s teeth have left in the leather. I want to spit it out, but Dr Reyes frowns at me and shakes his head. “Bite down on it now Alice, there’s a good girl,” he says and with another terrified whimper I obey.

I don’t know what to expect. I shiver, my flesh rippling into goosebumps as the doctors fiddle with their noisy machines. My head is strapped to the table so tightly that I can’t even turn it to see what they’re doing, and all I can see from the position I’m stuck in is the pale ceiling with its spider webs of cracks in the paint.

“Ready to go,” Dr Atherton announces eventually, and his voice sounds more animated than I’ve heard him be before. “Back from the table Reyes, and I’ll send the current through.”

He doesn’t warn me. Doesn’t say anything to me, but the next second I feel a searing wave of agony as a bolt of lightning splits my head open. Every nerve in my body fires and my muscles contort, my back arching and my limbs pulling uselessly against the unbreakable restraints. There’s a brief pause as the pain recedes and my body slumps back to the table; but then the lightning comes again and my skull shatters into a million pieces. I open my mouth for an agonised scream that never comes, and then the waves of darkness wash over me and I gratefully let them take me away.

                               ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

I can smell flowers and rain, the gentle kind of rain that is so welcome on hot summer days. I’m out on the porch at home, reading Anne of Green Gables to Sissy but we’ve paused for a moment to smell the dampening grass and listen to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof…

No. I open my eyes and see only the same grey roof and cracked paint that my eyes closed upon. I’m in the treatment room, still strapped to the table, my head pounding in time with the beating of my heart and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth. I am horrified to feel that my clothes are wet and clammy and I realise with a rush of embarrassment that I’ve wet my pants. I choke back a sob.

“Don’t cry.” I can feel hands removing the leather gag from my mouth and pulling on the strap holding my head back. “I’ll just get you undone.” The smell of greenery and rain intensifies.

As soon as my head is free I whip it around, craning my neck to see who is here with me, and then I feel myself relax and a smile bloom on my face. It’s the man from the garden.

“Hello Carrick,” I say.

He raises his head and stares at me. His curly dark hair is long, tied back at the nape of his neck, and his full beard is shot through with grey. He’s pale, stark white, and although he must be at least twenty years older than I am I find myself thinking I’ve never seen a man so lovely. When I look into his eyes I know I should be afraid, for they’re the bright ruby red of blood and like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but somehow I am not. I knew his name without introduction, and I know in my heart that he and I are friends. I breathe in again, and realise that the beautiful smell that is making me so happy is coming from him.

“How do you know my name?” he asks gruffly.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. As the last restraint is undone I sit up, only to find myself clutching at his shirt as the world spins sickeningly around. The arm I’m touching feels like rock under the cotton of his shirt. “Sometimes I just know things. My name is Alice.”

“Steady,” he mutters. “You’ll be feeling dizzy.”

When I can sit unassisted he hesitates for a moment. “I’ll get you some water Alice,” he says, and disappears, returning almost instantly with a cup of water.

“Thank you,” I say, and despite how much my hands are shaking I take it from him and drink it slowly.

Carrick watches me from across the room. He looks fascinated. “I saw you watching me last night,” he says at last.

I nod and smile at him. “You were in the garden.”

“I’m a groundskeeper here,” Carrick tells me slowly. “You’re not…afraid of me?”

I blink. “No. Should I be?”

A ghost of a smile drifts across his face. “Possibly. Considering what I am capable of doing to you, it would seem as though fear would be a more natural reaction to me.”

I can’t help myself. I laugh. “You’re not going to hurt me,” I say confidently. “I don’t know exactly who you are, Mr Carrick, but I do know that you’re my friend. Or at least, you _will_ be.” I frown briefly and then shrug. “Like I said, sometimes I just know things.”

He gives a soft chuckle. “I suppose we’ll see.” He glances behind him, out the door and down the corridor. “Was it too awful?” he asks suddenly. “The treatment?”

“What?” I ask blankly. What’s he talking about? “What treatment? They brought me here to the treatment room, but…I don’t know. I don’t remember after that. I don’t _think_ they did anything to me.”

Carrick shakes his head. “You don’t remember. Probably just as well.” He notices me shifting uncomfortably in the wet clothes. “I can’t be caught inside,” he says quickly. “I shall have to go before they come back. There are clean clothes in the storeroom beside this room. I’m sorry I can’t help you more.”

I slip down from the table. “Thank you.” I look up at him. “I think I’ll see you again…” My voice trails off, a little uncertainly.

Carrick looks at me, and his face is gentle with compassion. “I hope so Alice.” He comes closer to me and holds out his hand. Without hesitation I take it, feeling his cold fingers close around mine. “I will keep watch for you when I can,” he says softly, his red eyes dark. “Good luck my friend.” And then he’s gone, so quickly I don’t even see him leave.


	14. Dandelion

The treatments continue, day after day. Leather tight on my wrists and ankles and filling my mouth with its vile taste. Blinding, brutal pain in my head that wipes out everything I think and believe and am. I’m a shell, a ghost, a nothing.

_Joseph, let’s go outside and play before Papa notices I’m gone!_

My head aches. I don’t want to eat, and when I do it makes me sick. I can count every one of my ribs. My wrists and ankles are circled with purple and black bruises, a permanent reminder of the restraints I am caught in so often.

_Sissy, let’s read more about Anne of Green Gables. Maybe one day we’ll have adventures like Anne._

He comes to the room in the night. The first night I fight him, and after I bite and scratch and struggle he retreats. The next night he comes bearing a shiny syringe, and the drugs render me helpless and turn the world slow and fuzzy. I can do nothing as he laughs at me and looms large with his face wearing the devil’s mask, and what he takes from me I’ll never get back. Sometimes he comes back.

_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you…why isn’t anyone here with me?_

Days and nights blur, and I feel myself swirling and tossing in the maelstrom. Sometimes I don’t know where I am and the fear of being lost makes me scream, and sometimes I do know where I am and that is no less terrifying. Day by day I lose things…my hair, my innocence, my dignity. Soon I start to lose even more pieces of myself.

_Mama, where are you? I’m lost Mama, and so frightened. I don’t know what’s happening to me._

The treatments continue. Sometimes there are other pains beside the lightning bolts that split my head and stir my brain. One day the gag is not in place and I bite my tongue hard enough to put my teeth right through it and nearly suffocate on my own blood. Another day I suddenly find I can’t walk, because during treatment I have twisted in the restraints so violently that my ankle is broken. They splint and bandage it, but when it finally does heal it’s crooked and I can only limp.

_Please don’t hurt me again. I haven’t done anything to deserve this._

This is the bottom of the rabbit hole, and now I’m lost in the endless dark tunnels of the underground, and every day more of my memories and feelings and thoughts scuttle off, running away from me and this wreck of a body I exist in. Like dandelion seeds blown in the wind they dance and then vanish. Soon there will be nothing left at all.

_I don’t know where I am now. Is this all that there is- these grey stone walls and the blinding pain of the treatments? How did I come to be here?_

_I don’t remember._

_I don’t remember._

_I don’t remember._

Then, in the middle of the howling, terrifying vortex of nothing, I find _him_. He comes to me in my dreams, the beautiful golden man with his amber eyes and fair hair and the crooked smile that is only for me, and when he holds out his hand I take it. Linked together I feel nothing but the most glorious, all-encompassing love and it’s all for me. We belong together. I just need to find him.

_Jasper._  


	15. Carrick

_Mayberry Mental Asylum, 1920._

I’m waiting by the door when I hear the bolt slipping back, and I barely even let Carrick get the door open before I’m pushing my way outside with a smile. Behind me in the dorm room the other women lie motionless in their drugged sleep.

“Took you long enough,” I say teasingly, and he laughs.

“You always know when I’m coming.”

I nod, and begin padding silently down the corridor on bare feet. Carrick is wearing boots but he’s as soundless as I am as the two of us slip through the moonlit hallways, through the doors that he is miraculously able to unlock, and outside into the cool, fragrant night. I stop briefly, feeling the damp grass under my feet, and breathe deeply, filling my lungs with this clean, fresh air.

I limp after Carrick, who leads me down to the willow tree by the pond. I like to sit under the hanging, leafy roof and pretend that stone walls don’t exist. When we’re both sitting on the ground, Carrick smiles at me mischievously and I giggle happily.

“You’ve bought me a present,” I say.

“You can have it if you guess what it is,” he says.

Oh, a challenge. I sit and think for a moment, considering and discarding several ideas. There are not many things he can bring me, when everything I own is always being scrutinised and often taken. “Candy,” I say at last. “You bought me candy...or maybe a book. I can’t decide.”

Carrick laughs delightedly. “You’re a wonder, Alice!” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and shows me what he’s holding- a thin book with a blue cloth cover in one hand, and a small paper bag in the other.

“Oh, thank you!” I take them both, opening the candy first. It’s the multi coloured hard boiled sweets he knows I love, and I slip a red one into my mouth. It is blissfully sweet as it begins to melt on my tongue. “These are my favourites. Do you want one?”

Carrick shakes his head. I’m not surprised- he brings me food often, and never shares it with me although I offer every time.

I open the book and flip through the pages. Poetry. I read a line here or there, and then go back to the title page.

“ _The Watchman and Other Poems_ by LM Montgomery,” I say, frowning. “Do I know this book?”

Carrick is watching me. “You talked about another book by this author once,” he says carefully. “It was called Anne of Green Gables. Do you remember it?”

“No,” I page more slowly through the pages, and then suddenly stop, transfixed. “Carrick…look! This poem, it’s about him! Jasper!” I read it aloud to him then, the poem titled _Forever_ , which speaks to me of my dream lover and how much he will love me. How much we belong together, and when we find each other how we will love each other forever. “ _With you in waking and dream I shall be/ In the place of shadow and memory/ Under young springtime moons/ And on harvest noons /And when the stars are withdrawn /From the white pathway of the dawn.”_ My voice trails off.

“You still believe he will find you?” Carrick asks.

“He has to,” I say simply. “I know he will. He needs me Carrick, wherever he is. We belong together.” I read the poem over again, my heart lifting as the words fill my soul. It means something that Carrick would give me this book with this poem in it tonight. “Waking and dream…one day it will be real Carrick. I _know_. He’s in my dreams now, but he exists somewhere and one day we will find each other.”

I put another piece of candy in my mouth. I sometimes wonder how I would get by without the gifts of food Carrick brings me. The asylum food is terrible, and as the smallest female inmate it seems I’m always last in line for any extras, as well as being easy prey whenever anyone wants to steal something they’re not entitled to. He brings me things like bread and fruit and sometimes an egg because they’re better for filling the holes of hunger in my belly, but he knows I love the candy best.

“There’s a new girl,” I tell Carrick. “She came in yesterday and today Dr Reyes had her for treatment. Matron made me take down some papers to his room and I saw her there all hooked up to machines with things in her head. She had something in her mouth so she couldn’t even scream.” I shake my head. “It looked so awful.”

“She probably won’t remember any of it,” Carrick tells me gently. “People don’t seem to remember it, not after a few treatments.”

I sigh, feeling anxiety rising in my belly. “I don’t like thinking about the treatments,” I say in a small voice. “The girls come back from them behaving so very strangely. I’m afraid that the doctors will do them to me.”

Carrick eyes me intently. “Alice…you don’t need to be afraid of that. Not anymore. You don’t remember, and I thought it was probably easier on you if you didn’t, but if it’s worrying you…well, there’s no need. They’ve already done the shock treatment on you, when you first came here, and you just don’t remember it.”

“What?” I stare at him in shock. “I don’t remember anything of it!”

He shrugs. “You don’t remember much of anything, if you ask me.”

I can only look at him with my mouth agape. “They strapped me down to all those wires and machines and I don’t remember it?” I frown. “But maybe you’re right. I don’t remember so many things.” I suck thoughtfully at another piece of candy. “I used to think there was something else, besides here…but I can’t remember anything else. I think that maybe I’ve always been here.”

“Not always Alice,” Carrick sighs. “Although I couldn’t tell you how you came to be here. Most people have more to their stories than first meets the eye. I don’t know what you were before you came here.”

I look across at my odd friend. It is a strange relationship this one, even in this place where strange is so common it becomes ordinary. Carrick comes to me only at night and takes me out in to the grounds, where I can get my fill of fresh air and then pretend, just for a little while, that I’m free. He asks very little of me, seemingly content to bring me small gifts and play little games with my knack of guessing, in return for me keeping him company and chatting with him. I don’t see him every night, but I always seem to know when to expect him and I don’t take the medication on those nights.

“I still don’t know your story,” I say. “You haven’t told me why your eyes are always red like that, and why sometimes you act like being near me hurts you.”

“You’ve noticed that then?” Carrick looks interested. “Sometimes being around you _does_ hurt me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, deflated. “I don’t mean to do anything to hurt you.”

“I know, and it’s not so bad.” Carrick scratches at his beard. “I don’t know Alice, I can’t decide whether to share my story with you or not. It will change things, and I don’t know if that would be the right thing to do just yet.”

I eat another piece of candy. “I’d like to know more about you.” I frown. “But I…” A moving light in the asylum window catches my eyes. “Carrick, someone is awake and moving about inside! They can’t find that I’m gone!” I can feel panic rising.

“I’ll take you back,” Carrick says with a sigh. “You know I’m sorry that I can’t just take you away? Not yet.”

I don’t answer, already hurrying my reluctant feet back towards the building. I can no longer see the light, but I have the awful gut feeling that someone is going to catch me out of bed and my room, and the consequences will not be good.

Carrick sees me to my door because once I’m back inside he will need to drop the bolt so no one discovers I’ve been out at night.  I hate being locked in, and as I stand in the room and lean against the door, hearing the metallic clicks and thumps from the other side, I shut my eyes in defeat.

 Suddenly there are hands on me, covering my mouth and pinning me back against the door, and stinking breath in my nose as I hear a familiar, hated voice. Baxter, the devil of the night. “You’ve been a naughty girl, Alice…what have you been doing out of bed at night? Naughty, naughty Alice.”

I struggle desperately. I know it won’t do any good, it never has before, but I fight every time. And maybe this time it will be different. The hand over my mouth slips and I bite him savagely, the salty and metallic taste on my tongue telling me I’ve drawn blood. Baxter snarls at me and his hands go around my throat. Just before the pressure cuts off my airway completely I draw in a final gasp of air and scream out to the only person who might be able to help me.

“Carrick!”

It all happens so fast. The door behind me is wrenched right off its hinges and I fall backwards, gasping for air as Baxter’s hands slip and I can breathe again. He falls on me, and then Carrick’s face looms above us and the terrible, heavy weight is gone. I hear Baxter scream, a scream that chokes off into a horrible gurgling cry and then I hear the low growl of an animal and a sucking, slurping sound that makes my blood run cold. I scramble backwards. From the other side of the hall I stare at a scene that seems impossible- Baxter, as limp and floppy as a rag doll, and my gentle friend Carrick raising his face from his neck, the skin around his mouth stained dark. I see the flash of his teeth, white in the dimness.

“He didn’t hurt you this time?” Carrick asks.

I shake my head. My throat is sore from where he had his hands around my neck, but he is capable of so much worse. “Did you…is he dead?”

“He won’t bother you again,” Carrick says calmly, wiping his face on his sleeve. He rises to his feet, Baxter’s body hanging limply from one hand as though it weighs nothing. As Carrick turns some of the moonlight falling through the doorway touches the corpse and I see the bloody gash in his neck. I whimper and then gag, the bile rising in my throat.

_Vampire. That’s what Carrick is. Vampire. That’s why I only see him at night, why his skin is so pale and so cold, why he never eats any of the food he brings with him…he’s not only killed Baxter, but he’s feasted on his blood, right here in front of me…that’s why he thought I should be afraid of him._

Carrick is watching me carefully. “You know what I am now.”

Trembling, I nod, and my mouth forms the word that I’m almost afraid to think. _“Vampire._ You’re a vampire and you just drank his blood.”

“Indeed.”

“What will you do with him now?” I ask hesitantly.

“Get rid of him,” Carrick says easily. “There’s very little notice taken here, when someone turns up dead. However I did get rather carried away with this bastard and I think even here they might notice that half his neck is torn away.” He gives the body in his hand a disgusted look, and then looks at me and shakes his head. “You should have told me,” he adds quietly. “If I’d known he was doing those things to you I would have stopped him long ago.”

The unexpected sorrow in his voice brings tears to my eyes, and I shrug as I climb to my feet. “Let’s take him outside before someone comes.”

I limp alongside Carrick back out in to the grounds. I know how heavy Baxter must be but Carrick doesn’t even seem to notice his burden and slows his pace only to allow me to keep up with him. Neither of us speaks. There is so much to say, but I don’t even really know where to start.

Carrick takes me down to the incinerator where he burns the rubbish and garden waste. Without fuss he lights it and begins feeding in branches and twigs, building it up hotter before he throws the body in.

I sit back on a stump, my arms wrapped around my legs and my chin resting on my knees, watching the flickering flames. I feel a momentary guilt at how much I’m actually enjoying the fire which is, after all, a funeral pyre. But in the asylum the inmates do not have fires, and it’s very rare that I happen to be in Matron’s room and able to enjoy that one, even if just for a moment.

At last Carrick turns back to me. “I didn’t think you’d learn what I was in this way,” he says grudgingly. “I intended for you to know, but I hadn’t planned on a visual demonstration being part of the telling.”

I can’t stop a giggle. “Well, it made it very clear!” I smile at him. “That’s why you always said I should be afraid of you, I suppose.”

Carrick nods. “Most people are uneasy around vampires, even if they don’t know and don’t understand why. A vampire is the ultimate predator after all and despite all humanity’s ‘civilisation’ they are still animals at heart.” He looks at me and his eyes gleam. “You’ve been a temptation to me all these months Alice, with your delicious smelling blood!”

I grin back. “You’re not going to hurt me,” I say cheerfully. “It’s one of those things I know- you’re my friend Carrick, and you’re not going to do it.”

“There are plenty of others out there,” he says casually, and I wonder briefly if I should be bothered by this. He’s talking so openly about killing people, and I’m still sitting here enjoying the warmth of the fire on my bare feet.

“That’s part of the reason why I’ve been working here,” Carrick continues. “It’s easy to pick off a human when I need to, and not much notice is taken if there’s one less lunatic in the asylum. I’m very old now Alice, and I’ve learned to be discreet for the most part. Tonight was an exception. I was angry that he would have hurt you and I wanted to punish him, rather than just taking him because I was thirsty.”

“But you’ve never wanted to do it to me?” I ask hesitantly.

Carrick laughs. “Oh, I’ve _wanted_ to! You smell very tempting young Alice, but as much as I may have wanted to indulge myself and feast on you I’ve wanted to keep you alive more. You intrigue me, and at my age there’s very little in the world that is novel enough to interest me.”

“How old are you?” I ask curiously.

“Around sixteen hundred years old,” he says thoughtfully. “Give or take. It’s very old Alice…I’m very, very tired these days.”

My mind can’t even comprehend. He’s lived through so much! Whereas me, with my patchy, faulty memory full of holes… I am struck by a thought that shines in my mind with the hard gleam of truth and I look up at him, blinking. “You’re going to make me like you.”

Carrick tosses more wood into the incinerator. The centre of the fire is white hot now. “I’ve thought about it,” he says at last. He looks at me speculatively. “I’ve made only two other vampires in my lifetime, and both of them are gone now. I had not even been tempted to turn a human for probably five hundred years until I met you.”

I pick at my fingernails, frowning into the fire. “Why me?”

“Because I’ve not met anyone like you before,” he says quietly. “You’ve a touch of the fey about you Alice, with your knack for guessing and your dreams and premonitions. You’ve bound me to you with your mystery, and I find myself wanting to protect you at all costs.”

“But then why have you not changed me before?” I ask. “If I was like you, they couldn’t hurt me.”

“I have seen many humans undergo the change, and it’s not just a physical transformation Alice. Your mind changes too, in some subtle and not so subtle ways,” Carrick pauses, and I see that he’s searching for the right words. “What they called madness and sent you to this place for could become a very powerful gift if I changed you…but there is also the possibility that the touch of madness could also make you a most terrifying monster.”

 


	16. An Unlikely Saviour

Dawn is streaking the sky with pink when I finally leave Carrick and tiptoe back to my room. The door lies on the floor in the hallway, and I notice a small spattering of blood on the boards beside it that makes me shudder. I step gingerly over it and hurry over to my bed, sliding the book Carrick gave me inside a cut I’ve made in the mattress just for the purpose of hiding things. I curl up on my side on the lumpy mattress with my face to the wall and the old grey blanket pulled over my shoulder, putting the last of the hard candies into my mouth. I know I should try and sleep for the hour or so there is before someone we will be wakened for breakfast, but there is too much to think about and I can’t quiet my mind.

Vampires are real. People called me mad for my nebulous talent for premonition and were afraid of my difference to them, when all the time the world holds real monsters. I wonder how many people Carrick must have killed in his sixteen hundred years and the vastness of the time and the number of deaths he must have on his hands make me dizzy.

One of those deaths was because of me. I acknowledge it plainly, that it was because I called out that Carrick came back and took Baxter’s life and sent him to hell. I don’t feel guilty, though I also don’t feel any sort of satisfaction of revenge either. Mostly, all I feel is relieved that he is gone, and one of the millions of torments and indignities of my life here is over. He can’t ever hurt me again.

My mind goes back to what Carrick and I talked about earlier in the evening. I find it hard to believe that I could have undergone the horrors of the shock treatment that I’ve seen others go through, and yet remember nothing of it. How is that possible? But my hand unconsciously drifts up to stroke my short cropped hair, and I bite my lip. Am I really one of them? One of those girls I have seen undergo the shocks, day by day losing all that they were to become either a gibbering wreck or a ghostly shadow of a person?

I wish I could remember. Not because I want to dwell on awful things, but because I so often feel lost, afloat on a sea of fear and grief and with nothing to cling to for guidance. Carrick has said that there is more than just this place, that I haven’t always been here, but that seems like little more than fantasy to me. If it is true though, if maybe once I have had more than these grey stone walls and a memory full of holes, then maybe one day I can get that back. Maybe I can be more than I am now.

Maybe I can become a _lot_ more, if Carrick changes me. I try to picture it, thirsting for human blood, never sleeping, never hurting, never dying…but it’s so far away from my own life that I can scarcely grasp it.

With a sigh I swallow the last remnants of the candy and feel myself drifting off to sleep. It has been a long night.

I dream of Jasper. In my dream the two of us are walking through a dim night forest, holding hands, just walking. It’s such a simple dream, but when I wake up my heart aches from longing for it to be real.

There is quite an uproar over the door being smashed out of the frame when it’s discovered in the morning, but no one suspects I know anything. I am tempted to laugh when Carrick is called in to make repairs to what was his own damage, but I know better than to do so. Instead I keep my eyes down and move demurely past, but when Matron orders me to take a broom and sweep up the debris I do take my chances and speak with him.

“They don’t think you know anything?” he asks me, hammering the hinges into a new door.

I shake my head. “No. Is…he gone? In the fire?”

“For the most part,” Carrick mutters. “Only some bones left.” He glances down the corridor then, instead of using the hammer, drives the nails in with his bare fingers. I watch, fascinated. How strong is his vampire skin? “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yes, I’ll stay awake.” I watch him disappear out the door and then trail back to Matron’s room. She puts me to work in the kitchen, which is both a privilege and a curse. It’s a privilege I’ve earned as a ‘trusted’ patient here- since I haven’t fought and needed to be restrained for a long time I’m not seen as a threat, and I’m allowed down into the kitchens to help, although only in limited ways. It’s a privilege because it gives me something to do, and because sometimes there is extra food and I’m allowed to eat some, and it’s a curse because washing thousands of dishes in scalding hot water is terribly uncomfortable and awfully boring.

I sing softly while I work. Carrick’s words about me not remembering anything much drift in to my head and I frown as I wonder where I learned the song. By the time I finish washing the dishes my hands are red raw and cracked again, and I wince as I dry them.

Lunch is soup, mostly water and salt and a few vegetable floating in it. I eat what I can, which isn’t a great deal, and then along with everyone else I am locked back in the room for an afternoon nap.

I curl up facing the wall, blocking out the noise of the other patients, the wails and sobs and curses and rambling speeches of these broken people. At night time there are drugs to send us all into oblivion, but for the afternoon nap we are left to our own devices, and sometimes it can be very ugly.

I slide my hand into my mattress, bringing out the book Carrick gave me and holding it close to me. I leaf slowly through the pages, reading the poems and smiling at the imagery they raise in my mind. Have I seen these places that I’m thinking of? Was I ever somewhere without stone walls and locks and leather restraints, where I could walk free?

I reach the poem _Forever_ and read it slowly, mouthing the lines and words that speak to me of my Jasper, the man of my visions. “With you I shall ever be,” I whisper. “Over land and sea/ My thoughts will companion you;/ With yours shall my laughter chime,/ And my step keep time.”

_Jasper. When will I find you? How long will we remain apart when I know we’re meant to be together?_

“What have you got there?” It’s Betty, the woman in this room that I am most afraid of. She is prone to fits of violent rage and cannot be reasoned with in her shrieking fury. The doctors keep her drugged into docility for weeks at a time, but whenever they experiment with different dosages or combinations she becomes dangerous. 

I clutch my book to my chest and back up on the bed until I am crouched at the head. I like my corner bed for the blank wall it offers me so that I can pretend to be alone but right now, with Betty glaring at me from beside it, I feel trapped.

“Show me,” she demands.

Stubbornly I shake my head. “It’s just a book, that’s all. It’s mine.”

Betty’s eyes narrow. “Where did you get it?”

I don’t answer, and she makes a grab for it. “You give it to me now!”

I know she’ll take it from me by force if I resist, and I also know that the most sensible thing to do would be to surrender to the inevitable and give it to her. Then it will not be damaged and I can wait and watch for an opportunity to steal it back. But I look at her, and somehow I can’t bear to hand over my precious book. It’s new and clean and it smells good, and it has my Jasper’s poem in it…she can’t sully it with her dirty hands and nasty mind.

“You can’t have it,” I say flatly. “It’s mine.”

She makes a lunge towards me and just at the right moment I jump off the bed at the end and go to run. I would get away too, but my poor crooked ankle can’t take the strain of my leap and gives way, sending me crashing to the ground. I can’t stop the agonised scream as my wrist takes the full brunt of my weight.

Betty doesn’t care that I’m hurt. She dives down onto me, kicking and punching and hitting as she shouts at me. She’s a foot taller than me and would outweigh me by a hundred pounds, so all I can do is curl into a ball with my arms wrapped around me and my head down, the precious book tucked against my chest, hoping she forgets what she wanted and is content with giving me a beating.

My wrist is badly hurt though and my hands refuse to grip and I scream as her foot connects with my ribs. She seizes the book and I attempt to snatch it back, screaming as the cover tears off and I come away with only a few pages in my fingers. I howl with rage as I stuff them in my pocket. She’s broken it, my beautiful book, and suddenly I don’t care how much she hurts me, if I can only hurt her too for what she’s done.

I’ve never fought like this. I can barely see, my eyes blinded by involuntarily tears as Betty scratches and punches and I hit back, pinching and scratching wherever I can reach. I hear the noise, as not only Betty and I yell but the other women watching scream and shout and wail at the commotion, but it barely registers as I hit and kick as best I can. It’s hopeless though. I certainly hurt her, but she uses her greater weight to her advantage and before too long has me nearly immobilised as she bashes my head against the floor.

I’m just starting to think she might actually kill me when the door is flung open and Matron and several orderlies charge in. Matron is furious, but as she seizes Betty’s hair and throws her off me I’m quite glad to see her all the same.

Not for very long though, as the next moment one of the orderlies is bundling me into the hated restraint jacket. As he pulls my arm roughly into place I feel my sore wrist crack and I give an agonised scream. Matron slaps me across the face, hard, and my scream turns to sobs as the orderly drags me down the hallway and tosses me carelessly into one of the tiny isolation rooms. I manage to twist at the last moment so that I don’t land on the wrist I suspect is broken, but my head hits the wall and I lost consciousness.

I come back to awareness abruptly, adrenaline masking my multiple aches and pains and making my heart race. _I have to get out of here._ In that state of being half awake and half asleep I saw him coming for me, a red eyed vampire man intent only on hunting and killing, and I know that I am in greater danger than ever before.

I can barely breathe as I look wildly around me. I’m in one of the tiny isolation rooms that is barely bigger than a closet and contains nothing but bare walls and floors. I whimper in terror as I feel the tightness of the restraint and realise how trapped I am.

“Carrick,” I whisper, and then raise my voice to a shout. “Carrick!” It should be pointless, there is no window in here and the thick stone walls muffle all sound, but I’m running on instinct now and something tells me that my strange friend is going to be the one to help me. An unlikely saviour he might be, but he is the only one who has even a chance of saving me.

“Alice?”

I nearly sob with relief when I hear his voice on the other side of the thick door. I don’t question how it is he heard me or how he reached me so quickly- I am just so grateful that he did.

“I need to get out of here,” I say desperately. “Someone is coming for me- he’s going to hurt me.”

“You’re bleeding, Alice,” Carrick’s voice is strained. “I can smell it. Can you tell me how bad it is?”

“I don’t know,” I whimper. “It’s too dark in here…please Carrick, you have to get me _out!_ I don’t have _time_ …” My voice cracks. “I saw him coming for me. He’s a vampire like you, but he’s going to kill me when he reaches me.”

“If I don’t kill you first,” Carrick mutters, but I’m gasping in relief as the door opens and squinting against the sudden light.

He kneels by my side. “You’ve had a nose bleed.” His eyes appear black in the dimness. “And a head wound- it’s very, very hard to be near you when you’re bleeding. The blood is dry though, that’s good. Now tell me what you want me to do.”

“Take me away,” I breathe. “Now Carrick, right now, we have to run…” My stomach drops as my vision shifts and I see the vampire catching up to us both, tearing Carrick limb from limb and then moving towards me with a malicious grin. “Oh no, oh no,” I moan, feeling the rising tide of hysteria. “He’s going to catch us, he’s going to destroy you and kill me anyway…”

Carrick tears through the restraint jacket like it’s made of paper and I struggle to sit up. “Can you tell me anything else about him? What does he look like? I might know him.”

“His name is James…he’s a tracker.” I blink, not sure where the words have come from or what they mean. “I don’t know…”

Carrick shakes his head. “I know him.” He gently holds my broken wrist steady, and the iciness of his hands feels good on the throbbing ache. “I can change you Alice- I’ll take you away and if I bite you you’ll undergo the transformation and become one of us.”

I shake my head, bile rising in my throat. “It won’t be fast enough. He’s going to be here too soon…he wants my blood so badly Carrick, far more than you ever have! If we run he’ll catch us, if you bite me I won’t change enough before he reaches us to make it not worth him killing me.” I look up at him, barely able to see through my own terror. “I’m going to die Carrick, oh I’m going to die and he’s going to take such pleasure in the killing…”

“No you’re not.” Carrick lifts me in to his arms, staring intently into my eyes. “You’re willing to be changed Alice? You’re willing to become a vampire if that is what it takes to save your life?”

I nod wordlessly. _I can’t die, not yet. Not before I’ve found Jasper._

“I can bite you now,” he says quietly. “Right now, here. It will start the change, and then I can take you somewhere safe to wait the rest out. I’ll leave you there and go and meet James somewhere to delay him and give you time. Once the change is complete he won’t want you.”

I close my eyes. _It will work. There will be enough time, just enough time for me to change…but Carrick…_ I look at him with my heart in my eyes. “You can’t do that. He’ll be angry that you denied him what he wants and he’ll hurt you.”

Carrick is cradling me in one arm like I’m a baby, the fingers of his other hand wrapped around my wrist and hand, and he smiles at me tenderly. “Remember when I told you I was tired, Alice? I meant it. I don’t know what there is beyond this existence, but I’m ready to find out. I’ve lived sixteen hundred years, and if my life is to end now as yours begins, I’m content with that. I’m ready to take the risk. For some of us immortality grows wearisome and becomes more a burden than a gift.” He raises my wrist to his mouth and gently kisses it. “You’re sure you want this?”

I nod. “Thank you for this Carrick. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” The tears in my eyes are now for him, my dear strange friend who has made my life here bearable. “I love you.”

Carrick smiles again, “I know. I’ll come back for you if I can.” Then he opens his mouth and I see a flash of sharp white teeth and I shut my eyes so I don’t have to watch.

He bites.


	17. Awakening.

_Mississippi, 1920._

I’m burning. Flames lick my skin, eating away my flesh, leaving nothing but diamond hardness behind. I have never known such pain as this fire consuming me.

I’m not alone in the agony though. I’m surrounded by the ghosts of my past, faces looming through the burning haze and bright, happy voices as they tiptoe through the holes in my mind and I remember what I used to be. They have come to say goodbye, and lend me their strength to get through this tribulation.

Joseph, my laughing, careless, adored cousin. My Sissy, with her anxious smile and soft curly hair and the tiny birthmark shaped like a fish that I knew her by at her birth. Carrick, my strange vampire friend who bought me here, and for a moment I don’t know if he’s saved me or damned me. But then there’s Mama, my beloved mother, and the force of her love washes over me like a balm, soothing the burning. “We love you Alice!”

But the flames burn higher, brighter and hotter and they disappear, these people from before, drifting away from me as insubstantial as smoke. All I can do is watch them go as my heart breaks. _Please don’t leave me again!_

Others come to me then, spirits of the future to guide me through this maze of flame and bright, searing agony. A blonde man with the kindly face of an angel, a woman with soft brown hair and a sweet smile, voices encouraging me to be brave, hold on, it will be over soon…they drift and whirl around me and beckon me to follow them. I can’t though, not yet, and then two other faces shimmer into being beside them. Another angel, a girl with long blonde hair and a face of such perfection it seems almost impossible that it might exist. The man beside her is big and brawny and exudes menace until he grins at me, all dimples and boyish charm. Captivated by the pair of them I smile, and the burning lessens infinitesimally. There is music now, piano music of heartbreaking loveliness, and it brings with it a boy with tousled bronze hair and a serious face. He is like me, this boy, as I meet his eyes I can tell that he _knows_. They are mine, these spirits, they are my people and as they move around me faster and faster I follow their faces until they’re nothing but a blur. I close my eyes as the world spins and the piano music becomes the terrifying jangle of the calliope and I scream until there is silence.

_I open my eyes into a world of blackness, and although I can see neither the floor or the walls around me, and indeed cannot even see my own hands when I hold them up in front of me, somehow I can see_ him _. Jasper._

_“You’ve found me,” I say in wonder._

_He smiles at me with his crooked smile and shakes his head regretfully. “Not yet, I’m afraid.” His voice is as sweet and slow as syrup._

_I can’t hide my disappointment. “But I’ve been waiting so long! And I’ve been through the burning…shouldn’t I get a reward for that suffering?”_

_“It doesn’t work like that darlin’,” Jasper says sadly. “The agony is only the first price you pay for this immortality, and sometimes I think it’s the easiest price of all.”_

_“I’ll pay any price if it brings me to you,” I whisper._

_Oh, the smile that breaks over his face! Was there ever such a gloriously beautiful man? “We’ll be together eventually,” he says lovingly. “You’ll find me when it’s the right time, you can count on that. But I’m not ready for you yet.”_

_I nod unhappily, and he looks at me with gentle thoughtfulness. “You’re going to have to wake up, Alice.”_

_“Is this just a dream?” I say with disappointment. “All of it?”_

_Jasper shrugs. “Dream or reality…they’re not always so different for you.” I feel his hand, so briefly, caressing my cheek. “You’ve got a bit to learn before you find me and we can be together. So I think you should open your eyes my darlin’, and see what the world holds for you now.”_

_I give him a luminous smile and see the reflection of all my love and adoration in his face. “And I’ll find you one day?” When he nods, I give a soft sigh of resignation. “Until then I’ll dream of you…I love you Jasper.”_

_He gives me a courtly bow, and raises my hand to his mouth to place a delicate kiss on my skin. “And I love you.” Slowly he walks backwards away from me, his golden eyes never leaving mine until the darkness finally swallows him and I can see him no more._

I open my eyes.

It’s night time. I can hear the distant hoot of an owl, the swish of its wings through the warm night air, the squeak of the tiny animal marked as its prey. I’m in some kind of tumbledown building- the floor beneath me is dry, hard packed dirt and the wall at my back is softly rotting wood. I can smell the decay. Gaps in the tin roof let me see the stars, and for a long moment I stare at the distant beauty.

I’m thirsty. As soon as the sensation of thirst makes itself known it is overwhelming. My throat burns, and I whimper as I realise there is nothing that will soothe it in this outbuilding. I raise my nose, scenting the air, letting it wash through me until… _yes. That. I have to find that._

Silently I slip outside, following the scent that calls to me so seductively. _Want that. Need that._ I’m in a field, and as I scan the horizon I catch a distant glimmer of light and begin to run. I know I’ll find it over there.

It’s a small house, wood shingled and old, but I have no interest in my surroundings beyond navigating it as quickly as possible to reach the source of that delicious scent. The flames of thirst lick at my throat and I have to soothe them. The scent is all around me in this house, and for a moment I screw up my face in pain before I sift through the input of my senses and latch on to the steady heartbeats. _Find that. Want that._

The floorboards creak under my feet as I slink along the dark hallway and push open the door at the far end. They’re asleep, my prey, lying helpless and still in the pale moonlight and for a moment I breathe in the heady aroma before I give a low snarl and pounce.

_Ooooh, this is so good._ The blood floods into my mouth as I bite, pumping hot and tasty over my tongue and down my throat, soothing the excruciating burn. For a moment I close my eyes to better savour the pleasure of it, feeling the flood flow and listening to the heartbeat begin to fade, only to be interrupted a moment later by the other one, screaming as he takes in the sight of me feeding.

I open my eyes in shock. He’s staring at me in pure terror, this human, and the noise of his shrieks is reverberating painfully though my sensitive ears. “Stop it!” I say, dropping the body in my hand as I feel the heartbeat slowing. I cover my ears. “Stop!”

He doesn’t. Instead the sound increases as he scrambles off the bed and grabs for the poker by the fireplace, which he brings down hard on my head. I feel it hit me but it doesn’t hurt. Not me, anyway, although the vibrations that travel down the metal rod to his hands must pain the human because he drops it and howls.

I can’t stand the noise. I can’t think with all that screaming, and I can smell his blood and hear the hypnotic beat of his heart and there is only one way this can end. Almost lazily I jump off the bed, covering half the room and landing crouched in the doorway as he tries to flee. He attempts to stop but his bare feet slip on the floor and he trips and falls, almost gracefully, into my waiting arms. For a split second that is also an eternity he stares into my eyes, and I shake my head.

“I told you to stop making so much noise,” I say softly, and then my teeth rip through the delicate skin of his neck and I hum in pleasure as the delicious, life giving blood explodes onto my tongue. _So good. Need this. Want this._

I leave his body on the floor when I’m done, rising gracefully to my feet. There’s a mirror over by the window and I glide over to it, looking dispassionately at my reflection.

Is that me? This skinny scarecrow with the short, spiky dark hair and the over-sized, blood spattered pyjamas? I frown and reach out my hand, blood stained fingers meeting on the glass. There is a smear of blood across my mouth, and I wipe it on my sleeve as I stare at myself.

_Vampire._

The word comes into my mind, unbidden, and I know that it’s what I am. A vampire, a blood drinker, a creature of darkness and myth and magic. “ _I am a vampire._ ” I know they’re true, but the words taste strange on my tongue.

I don’t want to wear these clothes. As I go to tug the shirt over my head I hear something crinkle in the pocket and, curious, I reach in and draw out a piece of paper. There is a printed poem on it titled _Forever_ and I read it slowly.

**_Forever_ ** **_by Lucy Maud Montgomery_ **

_I_  
With you I shall ever be;   
Over land and sea   
My thoughts will companion you;   
With yours shall my laughter chime,   
And my step keep time   
In the dusk and dew   
With yours in blithesome rhyme;   
In all of your joy shall I rejoice,   
On my lips your sorrow shall find a voice,   
And when your tears in bitterness fall   
Mine shall mingle with them all;   
With you in waking and dream I shall be,   
In the place of shadow and memory,   
Under young springtime moons,   
And on harvest noons,   
And when the stars are withdrawn   
From the white pathway of the dawn.   
  


_II_  
O, my friend, nothing shall ever part  
My soul from yours, yours from my heart!  
I am yours and you mine, in silence and in speech,  
Death will only seal us each to each.  
Through the darkness we shall fare with fearless jest,  
Starward we shall go on a joyous new quest;  
There be many worlds, as we shall prove,  
Many suns and systems, but only one love

 

Below the printed verses there is a line scribbled in pencil, untidily, as if it were done in a great hurry. _Alice- you called him Jasper. Find him. Good luck._

Alice. That’s me. And Jasper…he was with me in the burning. I recall our conversation with perfect clarity and then frown. How can I find him? Suddenly I see it all in my mind. I’m sitting at a booth in a diner, wearing a dress printed with cherries and beautiful shiny black shoes. Outside the window there’s a city, and the wet pavements and cars gleam as the sun breaks through the clouds. The sun is what makes him open the door, and the bell above it jangles to herald his arrival. Jasper.

I consider the vision I’ve just had. I need to find the city, and I have to be wearing the dress and the hat and there’ll be a diner…there are lots of clues. I’ve got lots of time.

_He’s a vampire too._

There were other people in the burning. My mind brings up their faces, only this time they come with names and personalities and _knowing._ Carlisle. Esme. Rosalie. Emmett. Edward. _The Cullens._ I know them all, here in this internal place of knowledge, and somewhere they exist in reality.

_They’re all vampires. They’re my family._

It’s funny, these visions and ideas come into my mind with a diamond edge of sharp truth to them, but there is no need for haste. Events will unfold as they need to.

Keeping hold of the page with the poem, I wriggle out of the pyjamas. The sight and feel of them makes me feel uneasy, and I immediately feel better once I’d naked. I don’t know why the simple articles of clothing would raise such feelings of revulsion in me, and I look down at the dirty cotton pooled on the floor with consideration.

I don’t know where they came from.

I frown, trying to think but my mind draws a blank. All I remember is Jasper, and then the faces of the Cullens, but that’s not my past. That’s all part of my future. Before I saw Jasper there was…nothing. I shrug, a little bemused. Did I really just spring into being out there in that dismal outbuilding? I can’t have arisen from nothing. I shake my head. Maybe I did. It seems no more impossible than the idea that there was something else before this and I remember nothing of it, not when my recall from the moment Jasper appeared to me is so perfect.

I rummage in the cupboard, looking for something to wear. The clothes are all too large and I’m disappointed that none of them are pretty, but they’ll have to do. There is nothing resembling the lovely cherry print dress in my vision of Jasper. I eventually manage to find a dress that doesn’t drag on the floor or fall straight off my shoulders, and look at myself with a sigh. For now I suppose this is the best it’s going to get.

I step over the body in the doorway and prowl through the house. As I reach the living room the rising sun shines through the window and I stop, captivated by the way the light reacts with my skin. I sparkle in the sunlight, and I laugh in delight as I move my arms and watch the glittering reflected light dance over the walls. It’s so beautiful!

I freeze when a movement outside catches my eye, and in a flash I’m by the window, concealed in the curtain and peering out. Someone is coming up the path- a man with milk bottles. _I can’t be seen here_. I don’t move while he leaves the milk and strolls back down the path whistling. I watch until he disappears, and then slink silently back into the room, sitting down in the dimmest corner with my back to the wall.

I can’t let the humans see me. Not when I sparkle and glitter and flame in the sunlight...no, they can’t possibly see that. I don’t know exactly what the danger is, but I know my safety depends on secrecy and keeping myself hidden from human eyes. Thoughtfully I take the page with the poem and the note from where I tucked them into my sleeve and scan the words once again. _You called him Jasper. Find him._ I wonder who wrote the words and what they knew of me and my future. I’ll stay here for today, I think, and then when it’s dark tonight I will set out to find him. I cross my legs and resolutely settle down to wait.


	18. A New Friend

When the sun sets on the day my thirst has returned, searing my throat with its ferocity. It is hard to keep my intentions of finding Jasper and the Cullens at the forefront of my mind when I am besieged by such a fierce and desperate desire for blood, but as soon as darkness settles I set out. I’m in a rural area and with nothing but fields and animals for miles I begin to run.

I don’t make it past the first house. The scent of the warm blood and the pulsing of the heartbeats combine with my thirst to make the temptation irresistible, and I swerve from my path and leap straight through the window to where the humans lie asleep. This time I am quiet and stealthy and there is no struggle and no screaming- I gorge myself in minutes and then sit for a moment, replete.

I find a change of clothes in this house. The long, loose dress has been hampering my running and despite the care I took it is stained with blood after the feeding. One of the humans I have just drained is only a little bigger than I am, and when I rummage around in the drawers I find a new shirt and pair of trousers that actually fit.

On top the of the drawers lies a string of shiny blue beads that catch my eye with their prettiness and feel cool and smooth when I wind them around my neck. My reflection in the mirror looks back at me with red, feral eyes and I wonder why they are red when the vampire family in my vision looked at me with their eyes in all shades of gold.

I don’t linger in that house; instead I continue my flying, fluid run and reach the outskirts of the city by dawn. There are people in the streets, not very many, but their scent is enough to make my throat burn with thirst and my skin prickle with anxiety. I need to find somewhere to hide.

I choose a small, shabby row house in a dilapidated street. There is only one human inside and when I come face to face with them in the narrow hallway I have no choice but to make a quick and efficient end to him. The blood tastes good and leaves me feeling strong with all my senses alert, but as I look down at the limp, bloodless body at my feet I can’t stop the slight unease that skims my belly at such casual killing.

With a whole sunlit day to fill in I investigate the little house, and much to my pleasure I find a small shelf of books. I sit down and read them as the minutes and hours tick by, and I feel the world opening up around me. My life may have begun only days ago but here in these pages I am finding out so much that I need to know.

As I finish the last page of the final book, I close the cover thoughtfully. I’ve learned a great deal over the course of today, but these books have one glaring absence- there is nothing about vampires. Nothing about this thing that I am and that I need to know so much more about. I need more books.

It’s not quite sunset yet. In an upstairs room I sit on the windowsill and watch the humans moving in the street below. I see them differently now that I’ve read the books- this morning they were nothing more than a source of food to me, just prey with a heartbeat to guide me to them and delicious blood to slake my thirst, but now I can’t help wondering if they are thinking and feeling as I am. I know I’m different, but I don’t understand _how._

I think of Jasper, and see the vision of him once again in my mind. It’s comforting to know that he’s out there somewhere and I will find him, but there’s more than a trace of impatience in my mind as I play the vision of the diner again- I need him _now._

The Cullens. My mind roams to them and the faces drift through my mind. I see them in greater detail now, and the pictures and words and visions skip and float and I don’t know if it’s memory or wishing. Carlisle in a forest, running fast with Edward at his side. Esme cuts roses in a garden, laying the blooms in a basket over her arm and I can’t tell if she’s making a lover’s bouquet or a funeral wreath. Rosalie rolls her eyes at me and laughs, and Emmett swings a baseball bat and his mouth moves as he shouts, but I can’t catch the words. I grasp at the images, trying desperately to catch them but none of it connects, none of it _means_ anything to me…I growl in frustration.

The clothes. I pause for a moment as the thought strikes me, and then stare intently out the window at the people in the street. The clothes don’t match the visions. The dress with the cherries that I’ll wear when I meet Jasper is much shorter than anything I see in the street, the pattern bolder and brighter and the shiny shoes are different to what I’m looking at right now too. Rosalie too, she wears something that bares her arms and clings to her curves…

 _It hasn’t happened yet. None of it has happened yet._ What I’m seeing in that hidden internal place of knowing is the future. And it could be as soon as tomorrow or as far away as a hundred years, and right now I have no way of being sure. I bite my lip in disappointment. _I don’t want to be alone._

As I ponder the visions of Jasper and the Cullens it occurs to me that they have all come to me unbidden, and I wonder if this innate knowing can be directed. Glancing out the window for inspiration I stare at the street and think for a minute. _The next person coming around the corner…_ Into my mind comes a picture of two young girls with bare feet and dirty pinafores, holding hands and skipping, one of them carrying the loaf of bread they were sent to the store to fetch.

I hear them before I see them, the high girlish giggles of children with nothing but amusement on their minds, and then they skip into sight just as I imagined them. Bare feet and dirty pinafores and untidy braids, the loaf of bread clearly visible in the basket one of them has slung over an elbow. Walking proof that what I’m seeing in my mind’s eye is real. This is something else I need to know about- how far can I trust these visions and how well can they guide me to where I need to be?

 As soon as the twilight gloom settles over the town I slip out of the house. I want more books, but the first three houses I try don’t have any. The fourth house does, but along with the books there are three humans and the scent of them so close to me is irresistible when my throat flames with thirst. I feed greedily, even though it’s more than I need, and then pile the bodies in the kitchen so I don’t have to look at them. This house has a whole room full of books, and I can’t help but feel excited- surely amongst these pages I’ll learn something about what I am?

I don’t. The word vampire is barely mentioned and there’s nothing at all useful associated with it. I learn more about humans though, and about the world that feels so new to me and I find myself yearning to experience it all. I want to do these things and be like these people in the books! I don’t see how it’s possible though, not with this uncontrollable, excruciating thirst. There must be an answer somewhere though and I am determined to find it.

I see the moon change from a perfect half to a quarter moon as I move through the city during the nights, drifting through shadows like a ghost, entering houses to hide during the day, feeding on the humans that live there and cross my path. Then the day comes that I find the library, and I am captivated. A whole building full of books! I know that in here I’ll find the answers.

I do find some answers, but not in the way I expect. I’m sitting on the top of a bookcase in the reference section when I suddenly raise my head, scenting something new. _Vampire._ It’s the first time I have smelled that, and I drop the book and crouch ready to flee.  _Who is it?_

My fear vanishes as I see him in my mind. Oh, he’s going to be a friend… _don’t be afraid._ I sigh and sit back down on the bookcase, looking expectantly towards the rear door that I jimmied the lock on to enter. He’ll come in there.

“It’s quite okay,” I call out a short time later, sensing another presence and knowing they are watching me warily. “Please come out! I’d like to meet you.”

It’s a man who steps out silently from the shadows and I gaze at him in delighted wonder. He’s tall and lean, with long tousled hair and the shadow of a beard, and wearing a long dusty coat and bare feet. Here at last is someone like me!

 Eyeing me quizzically he raises his hands in greeting and surrender. “Well, well,” he says in amusement, “I wouldn’t have expected a little girl to be behind it all! You’ve left quite the messy trail, my friend.”

I beam at him. “I’m Alice.”

“Garrett.” He looks around him, shaking his head. “I was just passing through when I heard of the string of massacres that’s leaving the county terrified...sounds like one of my kind, I thought, but who could be so reckless and careless as to make such a mess? Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to investigate. You left a very easy to follow trail behind you…you’re lucky it was only me who was trying to find you.”

My smile fades as I think back. “Oh, all the humans? But I was so thirsty.”

“Of course you were,” Garrett moves closer and eyes me sharply. “You’re pretty much brand new I’d say, yes? Who made you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I can’t take my eyes off him. Everything about him is flawless, and his eyes are gleaming as richly red as my own. Unselfconsciously I drop from the bookcase and land beside him, stretching up on tiptoes to touch his face. His skin is smooth and perfect and the same temperature as mine, and the body beneath his coat feels as hard and chiselled as stone. I have examined my own face closely in the mirror and touched my own vampire body, but to feel it on someone else like this is extraordinary.

“Where did you come from?” Garrett persists, swatting my hands away. “When were you changed?”

Disappointed, I stop my minute examination of him and look at him blankly. “Changed?”

“You don’t know anything at all, do you?” Garrett shakes his head in wonder. “When were you bitten girl?”

I toss my head impatiently. “You’ll need to explain it all. I don’t _know_ you see…I just _am_. All I know is that I woke up and I was this, I don’t know what came before, or if anything did! That’s why I’m here, reading the books and looking for answers.” I think for a minute. “You don’t know Jasper do you?” I ask suddenly. “He’s a vampire too.”

Garrett shakes his head. “No, don’t know any Jasper.”

“Oh.” I can’t help the stab of disappointment I feel. “What about the Cullens?”

“I know a Carlisle Cullen,” Garrett says, a little warily.

“Oh!” I clutch his hand and hop with excitement. “Tell me about him! And what about the others? Edward and Rosalie and…”

Garrett is shaking his head. “No, I don’t know any of them. Carlisle’s a fascinating man, but he’s a loner.” He’s staring at me in fascination. “You’ll need to explain yourself girl- how is it you don’t know anything about being a vampire, you don’t know who made you, and yet you’ve heard of Carlisle Cullen?”

I sigh. “It’s a long story…or alternately, I suppose in some ways it’s a very short one.” I glance at the windows where I can see the pink light of dawn streaking the sky. “There’s so much I want to talk you about, and ask you…I think we should find somewhere we can talk.” I throw a dismissive look at the books I’ve been reading. “I thought I’d find the answers here, you see. The books told me so much about the humans, I thought they must be able to tell me about vampires too! But I can’t find anything.”

“You’ll not find what you need to know in any of those books!” Garrett’s almost laughing. “Damn Alice, I give you credit for trying but you’re in the wrong place for vampire lore. No girl, you come with me and we’ll see what we have to teach each other…I think this will be interesting.”


	19. Learning

Garrett leads me rapidly through the city. I am surprised at how humanly he is able to move and realising how it makes him blend in with the increasing crowd I do my best to mimic his movements, although it feels awkward and slow. Garrett notices what I’m doing and grins at me, a crumpled hat he has withdrawn from his pocket pulled low over his eyes.

“You noticed that I’m trying to go unnoticed?” he says. “It’s important that you can pretend to be human when you have to…you’re not bad for a newborn. You might have to learn to look like a girl though.”

He takes us to a burned out, boarded up shell of a building, easily scaling the brick wall when no one is near and slipping through a gaping hole in an upstairs window. I follow, moving across the wall and into the house as rapidly as a spider.

“We won’t be bothered here,” Garrett says. “It’s not fancy, but it works for me.”

It’s certainly not fancy. The room we’re in has smoke blackened walls and half the floor missing, so I can peer into the room below which is dark and filled with burnt rubble. There are several piles of newspapers, a filthy old armchair, some wooden crates and a few odd pieces of clothes strewn about.

“It’s _awful_ ,” I say candidly, and Garret laughs again.

“Like I said, it works for me, and I’ll not be here long.” Garrett sits in the armchair and leans towards me, his hands resting casually on his thighs. “Now girl…I need to get this straight. You don’t remember who changed you?”

“Changed me…in what way?” I take a seat on a wooden crate and look at him seriously, waiting for him to answer.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “From a human to a vampire of course!”

The pieces begin to fall in to place in my mind. “I was human,” I say slowly.

Garrett nods. “You were,” he confirms. “You must have met a vampire who bit you but didn’t kill you, that’s how it happens. You don’t remember? Not being human, or meeting a vampire or the burning…not any of it?”

“No,” I can scarcely believe that what he’s saying is true. “I don’t remember _anything_ like that.” My hands flutter in distress and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together as I absorb this new information.

“What do you remember?” Garrett’s voice is surprisingly gentle.

“I remember that I opened my eyes and saw the stars,” I whisper. “It was only a little over a week ago. I was all alone and I didn’t understand…I still don’t!” I think for a minute. “I was thirsty, so I went looking for something to make me feel better. Then I just kept going, and a day later I found the books in one house and I thought, that if they told me so much about humans, they could tell me about vampires too.”

Garrett is nodding thoughtfully. “The human memories fade, but I’ve never heard of someone waking up with nothing. And you’re very new, I’m sure of that- you’ve been feeding every day and you still feel thirsty, yes?” I nod wordlessly, and a moment later he goes on. “I don’t know who made me either, but I was changed in a battle situation and that’s a different kind of thing. You _must_ have been made deliberately, but if that’s so why would they leave you alone?” His eyes narrow. “And what do you know about Carlisle Cullen? If you don’t remember anything else, how is it that you know _his_ name?”

“I can…see things,” I say hesitantly. “Before they happen. I thought maybe it was a vampire talent?”

“No,” Garrett’s taking in everything I tell him. “I’ve heard of vampires with talents, but I’ve not met any. Tell me more about it.”

“I think I see the future,” I say. “The first thing I remember seeing was before I even opened my eyes, and I saw Jasper. He’s mine Garrett, and one day I’ll find him and then we’ll go to the Cullens.” Nothing else feels as sure and certain and right as that does, the idea of finding my Jasper and then finding the Cullens. I take a deep breath. “I can see other things too. I knew you were coming tonight, and I knew you were going to be my friend. That’s why I wasn’t afraid.”

“I did think you were crazy reckless to be calling out to me so,” Garrett admitted. “Especially down here in the South- you really don’t want to be getting mixed up with the mad lot down here. Up North most of the vampires you might meet are peaceable enough.”

I consider his words. I haven’t given much thought to any other vampires beyond the ones I’ve seen in my visions, and I know they won’t hurt me. “Tell me about Carlisle Cullen,” I request.

“I last saw him about ten years ago,” Garrett tells me. “I was surprised you knew his name…he’s just about the craziest damn vampire of the lot of them! Lives entirely off animal blood, strolls around in the human world as bold as you please, works as a _doctor_ of all things!” Garrett’s tone is a mix of incredulity and admiration. “He’s the smartest, kindest, most interesting vampire you could meet.”

“Animal blood?” I breathe. The visions shift in my head and I see them all again, more clearly this time. Jasper and I in the centre of the group, running fast through a forest, ahead of us flashing glimpses of white tailed deer fleeing for their lives as my mouth runs with venom. “The yellow eyes…”I say wonderingly. “It’s from the animal blood.”

Garrett shakes his head. “You’re really seeing him, aren’t you? Yeah, he’s got yellow eyes. Tells me when he was newborn they were as red as mine, but over time and living off animals they went gold. Makes it easier for him to blend in to the human world.”

My throat burns with thirst, and I feel a sudden stab of disappointment when I realise that the visions are telling me I’m going to be an animal blood drinker. No more human blood, and that’s going to be hard when it’s so good, so tempting…I force my mind to other things. “You don’t know the others though?” I ask. “I see him with his family. Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett- none of the names mean anything to you?”

“No, nothing.” Garrett shrugs. “Carlisle’s never had a mate or a coven. He’s been around a little longer than me, from England originally.” His eyes sparkle. “Probably the only damn Englishman I didn’t want to fight!”

I laugh, delighted that my visions of Carlisle are being confirmed, although I’m disappointed that Garrett knows nothing of the others. “I wonder where the others are? I only see them together.”

“If you’re seeing the future maybe they’re still human?” Garrett suggests. “Haven’t been changed yet? Or else they could be nomads, or part of a coven somewhere else.” He frowns briefly. “Sounds kind of odd though, if you don’t mind me saying so…I can’t see Carlisle changing a human. Not with the way his beliefs lie. He’s got some funny philosophies.”

“All their eyes are yellow too,” I say, seeing them again in my mind. “All the Cullens. Not Jasper when I’ll meet him, his eyes are red then, but they’re gold later on…” My voice trails off. The visions come to my mind almost effortlessly, but trying to interpret them and make sense of how they fit together and fit into the life I’m living is far more complex. “Mine too. I’m not going to feed off humans.”

Garrett roars with laughter. “Good luck with that, girl!”

I give an unwilling giggle. “The visions tell me that it’s possible and that I _will_ , but I admit I don’t know how! I haven’t been able to go within fifteen feet of a human without draining them. It’s just so _good_ ,that blood.” My throat burns again, and I make an unhappy noise.

Garrett raises his eyebrows. “Well, you don’t have to sell me on that- I’ve been feeding on humans since the Revolutionary War. But if you expect to last long enough to find your Jasper and turn disciple of Carlisle Cullen, you need to change your ways.”

“Why?” I ask in alarm. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Just about everything!” Garrett chuckles. “The key word of a vampire life is _secrecy_ , young Alice…that’s what you’ve got to remember. The humans might delight in horror stories of vampires, but stories are all they are- they don’t really believe we exist, and it’s better that way.”

“No one’s seen me,” I say defensively. “At least, not seen me and lived.” I touch the diamond hard skin of my arms. “I saw how it looked, in the sun, and I knew they couldn’t see that. I only went out at night time.”

“Well, that’s a good start,” Garrett allows. “But leaving a trail of wholesale massacres behind you through the same city? Not a good idea, girl.”

“Yes, I see.” I think back. “I’m sorry.”

Garrett shrugs. “No need to be sorry. You had to eat, and you didn’t have anyone to tell you different.” He eyes me speculatively. “And you _really_ don’t remember your human life?”

I shake my head. “No. I didn’t even know I _was_ human.” I wrinkle my nose. “They’re very…messy.”

Garrett laughs. “True enough. Now, if you’re going to go and drink animals like Carlisle you’ll have to manage that on your own. But hunting humans- I can teach you a few things about that. What you were doing, the whole household, is one of the more blatant and attention grabbing ways to go about it. Good to do them all so that no one can raise the alarm or see you, but when they’re found it really _does_ attract notice. And to do so many in such a short space of time and a relatively small geographical location…well.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got the citizenry in an uproar over the depraved murderer that’s preying on the city.”

“Oh,” I make a face. “I didn’t realise.”

“They’ll not catch you. You’re too fast and strong for that,” Garrett says. “It’s not the humans that you have to worry about girl- they can’t hurt you even if they did catch you. No, it’s the Volturi that you want to steer clear of.”

Just the word brings the vision to mind, diamond sharp and bringing the taste of fear to my tongue. The Volturi…vampires who style themselves as overlords and make the rules and mete out the retribution when the rules are broken. I see three of them on their thrones, and then a vampire with red eyes gleaming with avarice as he looks at me and holds out his hand to touch me. I physically recoil from the mental image.

“Aro,” I whisper, eyes wide. “I can’t let them know about me. He will want me for my visions, but if I go with them I’ll never find Jasper.” Suddenly alongside the visions of the Cullens is another future, but in this one my eyes are still red and my face is like stone and I wear a black cloak as I glide through underground vaults…I shake my head and the picture shimmers and disappears.

Garrett is watching me carefully. “The vampires with talents I’ve heard about are all associated with the Volturi,” he says slowly. “If you don’t want to go there…you might be better off not sharing your visions with other vampires you meet.”

I nod fervently. “I knew you were my friend. I will be careful with that though.”

“Okay then. And as for your hunting…” Garrett grins. “You need to learn a little subtlety. If you _must_ massacre an entire household, at least move on to a new city for next time, yes? Or else find some human that’s a little less noticeable and hide the body? There’re many loners and vagrants that can be taken without fuss. All the Volturi care about is that we maintain secrecy, so if you just hunt and feed with a little more caution you’ll be golden.”

I sigh. “Well, that makes sense. Although if I’m going to hunt and kill animals…”

“Do what you like there, I wouldn’t know,” Garrett chuckles again. “Tell you what, we’ll go to the forest tonight and you can try it.” He looks across at me. “The other thing you need to learn is to blend in a little with the humans- you can’t be climbing up and down walls like a spider and reading on top of bookcases when they’re around, you know.”

“I suppose not,” I think. “You can walk among humans without being noticed?”

Garrett nods. “For the most part. The eyes are a problem sometimes, but hats cover them up. Since it’s mainly dark when I’m out no one really looks too closely. I don’t spend a great deal of time interacting with humans though- I like to keep on the move.”

It sounds easier than the lifestyle I can see in my future with the Cullens. There we will have a house of our own and a life settled in one place. I will not be able to give in to the thirst and let my instincts guide me to satisfy it. I see Jasper and I, holding hands and walking through a hallway surrounded by humans, the pulsing heartbeats a constant hum below the noise of voices and slamming lockers. Our eyes are golden, and both of us walk at a pace almost indistinguishable from those around us as we smile at each other. Even in the vision the thirst is constant and uncomfortable, but I don’t doubt my control over it. I _want_ to do it. I want that family, I want them to be mine, I want to belong. I don’t want to be alone. _It is possible to resist, and I will learn how. Jasper will learn. When we go to them at last, we will be golden eyed and controlled, just like them._

 


	20. Testing the Waters

Garrett tells me his stories as we sit in his burned out shelter during the day. He’s over two hundred years old and has been living a nomadic lifestyle all over the continental USA all that time- the things he has seen and done have me fascinated. He also tells me about vampires and I find out more about myself in one day with him than I would have found out in months by myself.

As night falls my thirst intensifies. I find myself pacing around the room as my throat burns, Garrett watching me in amusement.

“You’re sure you want to try this animal hunting?” he asks sceptically.

I groan and fling up my hands. “Honestly Garrett! I told you I have to!” I frown at him, and then giggle helplessly. “Oh, I’m not off to a good start though! I’m so thirsty…” I can’t stop the whine from coming in to my voice and Garrett chuckles.

“It’ll get easier,” he says comfortingly. “I don’t know about the animal thing, but the thirst itself gets easier to handle. You’ll feed daily at first, but then you can go longer and longer in between times.”

“Well, it’s nice to know that one day I won’t want to tear my throat out,” I mutter peevishly. “Please Garrett, can we go now? I’ll never be able to resist the humans we pass if we leave it much longer.”

“Ah, why not,” Garrett says agreeably. “Come on. We’ll have to leave the city to find something for you to hunt, and I think we should keep going after that. Get away from the scene of your crimes, so to speak!” He looks at the few items scattered around the room and shrugs. “You have anything to need to bring with you?”

I touch the pocket that holds the paper with my poem on it. That paper, the clothes on my back and the string of blue beads around my neck are all that I own. I shake my head at Garrett. “I don’t have anything.”

“You don’t need anything,” Garrett swings agilely through the window and drops to the street below, waiting for me to follow. “It’s easier to move place to place if you’re not burdened down with objects.” He begins to walk along the street with long, graceful strides, watching me try and match his pace.

“Smaller steps,” he directs. “You’re walking like a man six foot tall, when you’re really only a short little lass.”

I giggle and try and shorten my steps.

“Slower,” Garrett says critically. “And don’t forget your arms.”

“But then I can’t keep up!” I protest.

Garrett laughs and slows a little. “You’ll get the hang of it, you’re not bad really.” He watches me approvingly. “See, you’re walking like quite the little human already! And the short hair and being so slight- with those clothes on you could pass for a lad if no one looks too close, and that’ll be an advantage for you travelling around. Easier for a boy alone to go around unnoticed and unbothered than a girl.”

I frown. I don’t want to look like a boy! “I only have on these clothes because I couldn’t find anything pretty that fit me,” I muttered. “I was going to keep looking.”

“Well, not saying you can’t go around like a female if you want to,” Garrett says casually. “But no one’ll bat an eyelid at a lad they see wandering around alone, but a little girl might attract some notice, and not good notice at that.”

“How old do you think I look?” I ask edgily.

Garrett looks at me blankly. “As a human? Hell Alice, I don’t know.” He looks me up and down thoughtfully, then pulls me over and looks down inside the big shirt I’m wearing. “Well, you’re skinny as a rail but you’re not a child for all that. You’ve got the body of a woman although it looks like you could do with a few good meals. You could be thirteen, you could be twenty. Doesn’t much matter.”

I sigh, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to put the pieces of my history together. I can’t dwell on it though, as we move through the city I am being assaulted from every side with the delicious scent of human blood and the demanding, insistent thudding of human heartbeats. The searing thirst in my throat is getting close to unbearable. I reach out and clasp Garrett’s hand tightly. “Help me,” I say imploringly. “I’m so thirsty!”

Garrett snorts, but his strong fingers close around mine anyway. “We’ll be out of the city soon and you can find yourself something, if you’re so determined. Hold on Alice.”

I do, and I feel a flush of pride as we leave the city behind and the temptation fades, although the thirst does not. As we travel through farmland Garrett relaxes the human façade, and soon we’re running.

“What kind of animal are you looking for?” he asks.

“Any kind,” I answer. “But Carlisle always hunts wild animals.” I see again the vision of the forest, pictures flipping through my mind rapidly. “Deer,” I say. “Elk, bears, bobcats…”

“Should really take you up north,” Garrett says, slowing to a walk as we approach a wild tangle of untamed forest. “But we can try in here.” He’s grinning. “This should be good for some entertainment.”

I stick my tongue out at him, but I’m concentrating on moving through the trees, senses alert for something to hunt. There’s a trace of something, a scent that doesn’t smell exactly appetising but that triggers my inner knowledge. “Coyote,” I say to Garrett softly, and he nods.

I follow the faint scent trail, moving faster as it gets stronger, instinctively coming at the animal from downwind. My feet are almost silent on the forest floor and the venom runs in my mouth at the thought of blood and soothing the burn of my throat.

Finally I come round a tree and see him, a scruffy sort of beast nosing around the forest. He doesn’t sense the danger he’s in. I move silently into position, never taking my eyes off him, licking my lip and readying myself to pounce. There is none of the desperate, instinctive drive to kill and feed that I felt around the humans. I can smell the blood and while it’s not repellent, it’s not calling to me the way human blood does. I wrinkle my nose briefly, and then leap and catch him, sinking my teeth into the neck to draw blood before I can think about it.

I gulp it down greedily, feeling it soothe the thirst and spread tendrils of warmth and life through my body. It’s not _bad_ , not exactly… Too soon the heart beat stops and I can draw no more blood from the body in my hands. I’m disappointed to find that, unlike when I’ve fed from a human, the thirst returns almost immediately. It prickles rather than burns, but feeding from humans will eliminate it completely for hours if there’s no scent of them nearby.

“Well?” Garrett is lounging against a tree, watching curiously. “You think the Carlisle Cullen way is doable?”

“It’s doable,” I say, without much enthusiasm. “I _know_ it can be done because he does it, and the rest of them will do it too.” My inner eye flashes upon a vision of Emmett, eyes red and apologetic above his dimples. “Well, they will mostly do it,” I correct myself. “There will be mistakes, sometimes.”

“How did it taste?” Garrett asks. “It doesn’t smell all that appealing, in my honest opinion.”

“Well, no, I don’t think so either,” I sigh. “But it tastes…well, it’s not horrible by any means, but it’s not like human blood either.” I toss the body of the coyote into a nearby bush and bite my lip. “And one little coyote won’t keep me going very long. I’m still thirsty.”

Garrett shrugs. “Well, watching you play jungle cat and hunt the beasts is an entertaining enough way to pass an evening! I don’t have any desire to become a disciple of Carlisle Cullen’s peculiar way of life myself, but if you do I don’t mind giving you a hand. If you don’t mind me tagging along?”

I shake my hand and grin at him. “Indeed I don’t Garrett.”

It turns out to be glorious fun, hunting through the forest. Being able to run for miles without stopping, the way I can duck and weave through the trees, the way I can climb and leap and fly from one to the next…oh, it’s wonderful! Garrett keeps up with me, only dropping back when I finally scent another coyote and slow my run to stalk it.

This coyote catches my scent at the last minute and tries to fight back, but the claws simply rake across my skin without leaving a mark and the teeth snap uselessly on air as I twist his neck and plunge my teeth in. The blood is thick and hot and gives me what I need, but it doesn’t leave my body humming the way human blood does. I resolutely turn my mind away from that thought and picture Jasper and I with the Cullens, golden eyed and happy with our strange diet, and feel comforted. _It will get easier._

Garrett drops from a branch high overhead and lands silently beside me. He looks from the limp body of the coyote to the grimace on my face as I wipe the blood smear off my lips, and asks me seriously, “You really think this is going to be worth it?”

Wordlessly I nod. I can’t explain to him how much I want that family, how much I want to _belong_ with them. I’m not even sure I understand the desperate need myself. I do want them though, I haven’t met them but already I love them, and I’ll do whatever it takes to become one of them. Not just for me either- the visions shift and blur in my head as I try to catch hold of them, but amongst the tangled images what rings out clearly is that Jasper needs them too. He will love me and I will love him, but for the two of us that family will help bind up the hurt places and hold us together in a way we might not be able to do alone.

Garrett won’t understand it. He’s spent over two hundred years roaming alone. He belongs to no one but himself and he’s happy like that…at least for now. In my visions there’s a flash of blonde hair and I see his besotted smile, but I don’t follow it and try to make sense of it. He doesn’t need me to tell him what I see. For him the adventure is in the not knowing, and that’s what he loves.

I toss the coyote off to the side and give Garrett a grin, shaking off the serious mood. “Where to now?” I ask brightly.

“Where?” Garrett laughs and swings me around. “Wherever you want, little Alice, wherever you want! This is a great country, and it’s all there at your feet.”

I laugh gleefully. “Take me somewhere nice, Garrett. Show me something amazing.” I pause for a moment. “And help me find some new clothes! I know what you said, but I want something pretty.”

He does what I ask, and he takes me to the coast so I can see the ocean. I had read about it in the books, but I wasn’t prepared for the sight of it, stretching out so far that even my vampire eyes can’t see the end of it. I sit cross legged on the sand just staring at it, while Garrett amuses himself by skipping stones across the waves. Sometime later he comes and sits beside me, wrapping an arm around me companionably.

“You like my something amazing, then?” he asks complacently.

I smile at him and clasp his hand tightly. “Garrett, I don’t even have words! It’s wonderful.” I look back out across the waves. “There really is so much for me to learn and discover, isn’t there?”

“Well, I’ve been looking for over two hundred years and I still find new and extraordinary every day,” he tells me. “There’ll never be enough time for me to unravel all the mysteries I’ve come across.”

“Maybe that’s why I won’t find Jasper soon,” I say thoughtfully. “I know we’re meant to be together and we will be one day, but I hate that I have to wait for him! Maybe there’s something I’m supposed to do in the meantime.”

Garrett shrugs. “Well, that sounds like something for you to find out.” He climbs to his feet and brushes the sand and dirt off his long coat. “Come on then, let’s go and find you something else to wear.”

He takes me to a store in a nearby town, simply pulling the locks off the rear door and opening it for me with a casual wave. “Go on then- I’ll wait for you out here.”

I slip silently through the store, finding the ladies’ clothing immediately. I intend to be quick, but I can’t resist stroking the beautiful fabrics, feeling the soft silks and satins and more hard wearing cottons, letting the feathers on the hats tickle my fingers. I let the shirt and trousers I’ve been wearing for days drop to the floor and array myself in the lovely lace trimmed underwear I’ve found. It takes me longer to decide on a dress, but at last I choose something and twirl happily in front of the mirror. I know it’s unnecessary but I can’t resist adding stockings and shoes to the outfit, and then a divine hat that makes me clap my hands and hop up and down in glee because it all looks so nice.

I’m perusing the jewellery counter, having forgotten all about Garrett waiting for me in my absorption with the pretty things, when I realise that the store is getting lighter. Looking out the front window I see that the sky is now the pale grey of early morning, and I know it’s time to leave. I give a last regretful look at the glittering display in front of me and turn away. I don’t _really_ need a string of pearls and the man’s pocket watch might be lovely but when I don’t have an appropriate pocket I’m not really going to be able to use it.

“Garrett! Look…” I start to say as I leave the store, but the words all vanish from my mind when I smell the blood. Garrett looks up with snarl from the human body in his hands and I hiss as I move in closer, everything forgotten in the instinctive drive for blood. _Want that. Need that. Take it from him._

I’m too late, or Garrett’s too quick…before I can take the prey I want so much from him he drains it and the stuttering heart stops. Unconsciously I snarl at him in rage and disappointment, and then shake myself, cutting off my breathing and trying to hold it together.

Garrett too seems to come back to himself once the blood is gone. A moment ago I have no doubt he would have torn me to pieces if I’d come between him and his feeding, but now he gives me a rueful smile and drops the body in a dumpster. “He just happened by- too hard to resist.”

I nod, but don’t say anything. As the venom pools in my mouth and my throat burns with unsatisfied blood lust, I realise that this situation is untenable.

“I’m not going to be able to stay with you,” I say softly, disappointment clear in my tone. “I have to learn to exist on animal blood, and I’ll never be able to do it if you’re killing humans. It will be too hard to resist when it’s there all the time.”

Garrett’s mouth twists in a wry smile. “You may be right at that. Although I’ll be sorry to see you go Alice, I’ve enjoyed meeting you. New vampires are something of a rarity, all things considered, and you’re more interesting than most.”

“I’ll see you again though,” I say confidently. This I know. “Perhaps when I’m with the Cullens- I’m sure you’ll want to meet Carlisle’s family once he has them.”

Garrett laughs. “Well yes, that I’ll have to see…eccentric Carlisle Cullen as a coven leader! I believe you Alice, but it’s a hard idea to swallow when I’ve spent many a long evening talking to the man while he wrestles with his conscience about what he is!”

I laugh, and for a moment wish I could take the easy path and stay with Garrett. It’s not right for me though, and I sigh a little wistfully.

“Come along girl,” Garrett says gently, “Give me one more day- we’ll hole up in a tavern somewhere and talk, and then when night falls I’ll wish you luck and we’ll go our separate ways.” His eyes take in my new clothes and then crinkle up in a smile. “Although with you looking like a sophisticated lady now we’ll have to find something a bit more upscale! Come on then.”

And with a laugh I give him my hand, and that’s what we do.

 


	21. Finding My Way

_Mississippi/ Alabama/ Florida/ Georgia 1920-1922._

The vampire life I’ve chosen to lead is not easy. Every instinct I have screams at me to hunt, to feed, to stalk the humans that walk so carelessly on the earth and slaughter them for my own needs. All my senses and abilities and skills are honed to perfection for one end- the luring and killing of human prey. The scent of blood taunts me and the heartbeats are like constant drums, beating out my tattoo of desire, calling to me seductively and promising endless delights. Every minute of the day and night I fight against it, pitting my will against the centuries of conditioning that have made vampires what they are. I feel like a tiny sapling trying desperately to stay upright in a tempest, but every hour that goes past without a killing strengthens my resolve and every animal I drain in place of a human builds up my resistance until the day comes that I can walk among them, strong and steady and sure in my ability to resist.

I make mistakes, sometimes. Wrong person, wrong place…unexpected and unprepared for…thirst too overwhelmingly scorching and desire too strong to resist and I take someone down. It tears my heart out when I do and only strengthens my determination to succeed at this. I remember the ruthless slaughter of my newborn days with horror now.

Worse than the thirst though, worse even than the guilt of mistakes, is the loneliness. As I walk through the world I have no one, and even surrounded by humans I cannot reach out to anyone until I can trust myself not to hurt them. There’s like a great dark chasm of sorrow and loneliness inside me that threatens to swallow me up, and it’s only the knowledge of what I have coming to me eventually that holds me together and forces me to keep moving.

Every day I close my eyes and think of him, letting the visions come to me. _Jasper._ I see the two of us together and I feel the love, and there are days when the loneliness is so bleak that it is the only thing that gives me the will to continue. We’ve never met but I know him so intimately, his crooked smile and the dark golden eyes that will look at me so tenderly, the scarred body that tells so many stories…I wish I could sleep and meet him in dreams as I did in the burning. I repeat the words of the poem I still carry in my pocket and write his name in the sand with my fingertips and cling to the belief that every day brings me closer to him.

I think of the Cullens too. They are harder to see in my mind than Jasper, and sometimes the visions don’t make sense and I can’t connect them, but the certainty that they are my family and I will be one of them never wavers.

Occasionally I have a vision of such clarity and strength it frightens me. One night I stop in the middle of a hunt and scream as the world around me shifts. I’m on the top of a cliff, wind whipping my hair and then the water rushes up to meet me, faster and faster, the waves on the rocks wicked and deadly in their beauty and I scream again as it all vanishes and I’m back, just Alice, down on my knees in the forest and shaking with terror. _Esme._ I know it’s her, but the cliffs were nowhere I recognised and there is nothing I can do to help her.

I’m almost too afraid to look for her after that, but when I tremblingly close my eyes to better able my mind’s eye to see her, I’m rewarded with a clearer vision than I’ve ever had before, of her with Carlisle. He’s… _biting_ her, and suddenly I open my eyes and laugh, my terror giving way to a sudden blinding flash of happiness. _He’s found her. Esme and Carlisle are together now._

The visions come a little easier after that, especially of Esme and Carlisle and Edward. I have no way to know, at least not now, but it makes me think that the three of them are together, and that Rosalie and Emmett are somewhere else. Maybe they’re still human or maybe they’re roaming alone like me. I wonder if they know the future they have waiting for them.

I don’t want to be alone. The loneliness is my strongest motivation against the thirst really- I know I have to master this diet before I will find Jasper or the Cullens. I still believe that’s some time away, but until I am not a threat even the company of humans isn’t possible for me. I roam the coast and then turn inland, and months go by without me speaking to another soul.

I wish fiercely for Garrett, and sometimes I even whisper the name of the Volturi and see that alternate future for me, knowing that if I choose that I will not need to wait. I can go to Aro today and hold his hands; he will see into my soul and welcome me with open arms for what I am able to do. Occasionally I am so lonely I’m almost tempted, but I see what I will become and I know it’s not what I’m really meant to do. I cannot become the nightmare with the red eyes of blood and the compassionless face of the monster.

_I will be Alice Cullen. I will hunt animals with Jasper by my side and I will love him in the forest and then go home to my family, Carlisle and Esme, Edward, Emmett and Rosalie. We will walk among the humans and I will never be lonely again._  

Then the day comes that I notice it starting to become easier. The thirst is still constant, but I’m almost able to ignore it for stretches of time. The longer I go without human blood the easier it is to resist, and the better the animal blood tastes. I test myself, tentatively spending more time among the humans. I walk through towns. I take a seat in a tea shop and pretend to sip a cup of tea while I watch out the window, listening to the heartbeats around me, the delicious blood thrumming through so many veins, a smile curving my mouth as I sit demurely and see the reflection of my golden eyes in the mirror behind the counter. _I can do this._

I do make them uneasy though, the humans. It disappoints me that despite all my efforts to appear friendly and normal and ordinary their latent instincts perk up in the presence of the predator I really am and they are nervous around me. I redouble my efforts to blend in, spending hours watching intently from park benches and tea shop tables and hotel lounges and storing up mannerisms and actions and behaviours in my mind so that I can mimic them when I need to.

I get better at it. I reluctantly concede that Garrett was right when he said that dressing as a boy would allow me greater freedom. On one of my thieving expeditions one night I take a leather satchel and some trousers and a shirt and vest and cap, so that when it seems prudent I can pack my pretty Alice clothes away and become Albert. Dressed as a boy I’m able to slink through the cities and towns without attracting attention and explore a whole different element of humanity.

Then the particular evening comes that I move cautiously through an unfamiliar town. It’s twilight but there are more people on the streets than I would expect. I look for the reason why and feel a surge of excitement when I see the glowing lights and hear the music of the carnival. There will be crowds, but I’ve fed in the afternoon and I feel strong and confident in my ability to control myself. I follow the people towards the showgrounds.

It looks like magic. The coloured lights of the midway blur and flash and spin, and I listen to the jangling music and the roar and hum of the machinery running the rides. The shouts of the spruikers and the ring of the bells at the strong man competition almost drowns out the sound of all the heartbeats, fast and pounding with excitement. The smell of human blood mingles with the smell of popcorn and hotdogs and the burnt sugar of the candy floss and I cannot stop my smile as I gaze around me.

I drift down the midway, feeling the crowd ebb and flow around me. I hasten my pace as I pass the tent with the fighting, knowing they will be spilling blood in there and it will be too dangerous for me to be near. At the far end of the midway I can see the ferris wheel and stands built up around a ring where trick riders gallop on their horses. To my side there are tents and booths with games of skill and chance, musicians and freak shows.

“Hey pretty lady…you want to try your luck?”

A voice calls to me from the ring toss, and I glance over with a smile, shaking my head automatically. It’s a young man, sun browned and smiling, winking at me as he holds out the rings enticingly.

“Awww, come on…first try free!”

I laugh, and finger the coins in my pocket. My pickpocketing skills are unparalleled and in just my wander down the fair course I have amassed enough for the new dress I need. Maybe I could spare a little… I step over to him.

“Let’s see what you can do!”

I know he’s flirting with me because he wants me to play his game, but I don’t even care. To have someone smile at me so happily…it’s worth the money I hand over. He gives me the rings and I balance them carefully in my hands, feeling the way they are slightly unevenly weighted. I eye the prize board, noticing amongst the other things some bright, gaudy costume jewellery, and I nod at it confidently.

“The bracelet…I bet I can get it,” I say, and smile at him from beneath my lashes as he laughs.

“Well, go ahead then sweetheart,” he teases.

Really, it’s hardly fair, not with my vampire skills. In fact the only difficult part is slowing my movements enough to make my toss and hook look like something a human would do, but I manage it and a few moments later the boy is giving a rueful chuckle as he loops the bright jewellery around my wrist.

“You’ve got a good eye for a girl!” he says.

I beam at him. “You should never underestimate the girls you know.”

His eyes are crinkled in amusement. “I guess I shouldn’t.” He hooks the clasp on the bracelet and for a moment his fingers linger on my palm. “You’ve got cold hands sweetheart,” he comments. “You should go get some hot dogs to warm you up.”

I snatch my hands back, wanting to gag at the thought of the hotdogs, and shake my head. “I’m just going to keep looking.”

“Well, come back any time,” he winks at me. “I’ve got lots more jewellery for you to win!”

I laugh and wave, but as I move away I feel the stirrings of a vision at the edges of my mind. From a distance I look back at him, only to find that he’s staring after me, and as he catches my eye he raises his arm in salute.

I wonder what it means, but before I have a moment to let my mind delve further I see the next tent and stop abruptly, every other thought leaving my head as I stare at the gaudily painted sign. _Madame Rosalinda, Fortune teller._

Oblivious to the crowd I laugh in delight as the images flood my mind and I clasp my hands together in glee. _It’s perfect._ It is all coming together, this is where I was meant to be tonight and it’s going to work out so wonderfully…I turn on my heel and hurry back down the midway, searching for the face I’ve seen in my vision.

I find him leaning on the fence by the horse corral, mopping his sweaty red face with a handkerchief. The horses in the corral scent me and fling their heads up, neighing anxiously as they trot to the far end of the enclosure to get away from me, instinctively recognising me for the predator I am. The tiny monkey that sits on his shoulder wearing a pink net tutu and a yellow pullover bares her teeth and hisses at me, but the man himself gives me a genial smile.

“Mr Rivera?” I ask.

“That’s me,” he says cheerfully. “And how can I help you, Miss?”

I give him a beaming smile. “Well actually Mr Rivera, I think I’m going to help _you._ I’ve come to be your new fortune teller.”

He gives me a puzzled smile. “But we’re not in need of a fortune teller. Elsie…Madame Rosalinda I mean, she’s…well, she’s here.”

I giggle. “But she’s not any good, is she? And she’s always drunk…in fact I know that if you look right now you’ll find her passed out behind the tattooed lady’s tent.”

Mr Rivera swears and storms off towards the back of the row of tents. I follow, and watch as he finds an insensible woman snoring behind one of the tents. She’s dressed in an exotic array of skirts and scarves and gold jewellery, the scarf she had tied around her head slipped back to expose coarse brown hair. There’s a bottle on the ground at her feet, and Mr Rivera kicks it furiously away into the distance as he tries unsuccessfully to rouse her. Eventually he swears loudly and turns to face me, scowling irritably.

“I suppose you saw her here and thought you’d take advantage to make up a story?” he says rudely.

I shake my head. “I’ve not laid eyes on her before,” I say truthfully. “I see things Mr Rivera, that’s all…and when you give me the job here I’ll make you money, I can promise you that.”

He looks at me sceptically. “Hell, God knows I’ve wanted to get rid of her for months now. You want to do the job it’s yours. What’s your name?”

“Alicia,” I say promptly, giving a more exotic version of my name.

“All right then, Madame Alicia…you got your own transport or anything?”

I shake my head and he sighs. “Never mind. One of the others’ll take you in.” He glances at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. You go and get your suitcases or whatever you’ve got, and come to my caravan at the end of the night and we’ll sort you out then.” He turns and walks rapidly away, the little monkey turning around on his shoulder and throwing a peach pit at me with an angry burst of chatter. I giggle and hug myself, because for the first time ever I’m going to have a home, as bizarre and unusual as that home may turn out to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- She’s got to do something to fill in time while she waits for Jasper! (And I promise, he’s coming…eventually!) All thanks to my husband who actually suggested Alice become a carnival fortune teller when I was complaining to him about the twenty eight years of ???? she’s got to go through before she finds Jasper, lol.


	22. A Place to Belong

I don’t have a suitcase. I skip out of the carnival and take off, my flying run eating the miles beneath my feet as I head towards the city some distance away. If I want this to work I have to blend in, I have to play the human so perfectly that no one will ever suspect I’m not quite what I say I am.

Sometimes I feel bad about the stealing, but until now there’s been no way around it. At first I stole from the people I killed, then after I began existing only on the animal blood I stole from stores. Sometimes I took things from houses, when I came across one that was empty of inhabitants. Mostly I took clothes, sometimes books or puzzles or something to play with on the long lonely days and nights. I’ve become a skilled pickpocket too, so that sometimes I have money and can go into stores and buy things like an ordinary human. I know as a human such actions are considered wrong, but until now I’ve had no other means to access the things I need.

Now though, I’m going to have a job and I’m going to earn some money. I’ll have coins of my own and I won’t have to take from others. As I reach the city I smile happily as I slink through the shadows surrounding the department store and find a rear door where the broken bolts and locks won’t be immediately noticed.

I love department stores. I have to remind myself to hurry, that I don’t have until dawn to browse the merchandise this time. Instead I find a suitcase and rapidly fill it with the things I’ll need for my human disguise, rearranging the items on the shelves and racks as best I can to hide what’s been taken. After thinking for a moment I hunt around for clothes and jewellery that will make a suitable fortune telling costume- if I’m going to do this I need to look the part! It’s more than I’ve ever taken at one time, and I grimace as I slip out of the store, knowing that there’s no way they won’t notice this.

The carnival is winding down when I arrive back, remembering to drag my suitcase behind me as if its weight is too much for me. This also has the added advantage of rapidly getting it covered in dust and scratches, making it look less brand new and conspicuous.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re closed…you’ll have to come back tomorrow!” It’s the boy from the ring toss, smiling at me as saunters down the now dim midway. He smells like sugar and popcorn, and my throat burns as I smile back at him.

“I’ve not come back to play your game,” I tell him brightly. “I’m Alicia, and I’m going to work here. I’m going to be the fortune teller.”

He grins broadly. “Well, if that isn’t just a bit of good fortune for me…hello to you Alicia! I’m Thomas Flynn…mostly they just call me Flynn.” His hand reaches out for my suitcase. “I’ll carry this for you, it’s nearly as big as you are! Where are you headed?”

“To see Mr Rivera,” I tell him, smiling inwardly as I hear the grunt as he lifts the suitcase that felt light as a feather to me. “He said there’d be somewhere for me to stay.”

“So you tell fortunes then,” Flynn says cheerfully. “What can you tell me about mine then? Do you need your crystal ball?”

I grin. “I don’t need anything.” Looking at him I see the pictures flick through my mind. “You’ll run this carnival one day,” I say to him, slightly questioningly. “You’ll have the monkey and everything.”

He stops and stares at me. “Where did you get that from?”

I shrug, slightly embarrassed. “I tell fortunes…that’s yours.”

Flynn shakes his head and begins to walk again. “Carl Rivera is my uncle, but no one here knows that.” He gives me a sharp look, and I wonder uneasily if I shouldn’t have pretended more incompetence than I have. “I’d rather no one did know about it too!”

“I won’t tell,” I say. “I’m very good at keeping secrets…it’s a heavy responsibility telling the future!” I add with a laugh, glad when I see his eyes crinkle up with amusement again.

“I wonder if my uncle knows what he’s getting with you?” Flynn asks with a wink, stopping in front of an old wooden caravan and knocking at the door.

Mr Rivera opens it, smiling at Flynn and then looking over at me. “So you did come back,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

Flynn chuckles. “Rivera, you’ve got something special with this one.”

Mr Rivera scowls at him. “Well, you leave her alone. I know you!” He looks back at me. “You need somewhere to stay. All the fortune teller stuff belongs to the carnival so you can stay in the tent if you like. Not luxurious, but it’ll be your own space. Flynn’ll take your case along there for you.”

Flynn rolls his eyes but winks at me as I smile happily at Mr Rivera. The monkey suddenly appears on his shoulder and throws half a sandwich at me, chattering furiously. I can’t help giggling as Mr Rivera grabs her and growls. “Lulu! Manners!” He looks at me. “She’s a bit temperamental,” he says gruffly. “Takes against people for no reason…don’t take it personal. She’ll come round to you in time.”

_No, I don’t think she will_. But of all the things I shall have to navigate in this new life, I don’t think I need to spend too much time worrying about a small capuchin monkey who recognises me as something non-human.

Flynn hefts up my case again and the two of us stroll along the darkened midway towards the fortune teller’s tent. Most of the other tents and stands are closed and shuttered. Behind the midway I can see tents and trucks scattered through the field, and the cheerful glimmer of several campfires.

“Most of us camp out behind the midway,” Flynn tells me. “You’re welcome to come and join us at a fire for something to eat if you like.” He pauses outside the tent and looks at me doubtfully. “You sure you’ll be okay here on your own? There’s a few others who sleep in the midway tents- Hildy and Walt are up just a ways, the tattooed couple you know- but if you’re worried you can bunk in with some of the others. The dancers will have room…”

“I’ll be fine here on my own,” I say firmly. The last thing I want is to have to share confined, tiny quarters with humans when I never sleep and will have to slip out and hunt regularly! I grin at Flynn cockily. “I’m a lot tougher than I look!”

He laughs and ducks under the tent flap with my case. “I’m sure.” A moment later I see lantern light shining from behind the canvas and Flynn reappears, standing with his hands in his pockets and looking at me intently. “I can’t tempt you over to my fire?”

I shake my head. “Thank you, but no. I need to settle in.” I step past him and into the tent, looking over my shoulder for a minute at his friendly face. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

He wiggles his fingers at me in farewell. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

Alone at last, I explore the tiny tent that’s going to be my new home. It’s a mess, and I guess that the previous occupant was perhaps none too happy about her eviction. Enchanted by the idea of such domesticity I set about setting it back to rights. There’s a small table and I drape it with a velvet cloth and arrange the three chairs around it. A painted folding screen blocks off the back half of the tent and behind it there’s a small canvas stretcher. I pick up the things strewn around the tent, piling the rubbish in a corner to dispose of later and putting things that look like something I might use in a wooden crate. Once it’s all arranged to my satisfaction I sit at the table, hands folded on the cloth in front of me and my eyes closed as I summon up a vision of Jasper.

_You’re so beautiful._ In my mind I see him step through the door of the diner we’ll meet in, the sun behind him lighting the strands of his gold hair. Every muscle in his body is taut with defensiveness, and I feel my heart ache with the longing to touch him and smooth away the lines of pain. _Wait for me Jasper, wait for me…I’m coming. One day we’ll be together, and I will make you smile and you will love me, and I’ll never have to be lonely again. Wait for me._

The majority of the carnival folk sleep away a great deal of the morning. I venture outside mid-morning, wearing a broad brimmed hat and full length evening gloves to cover my skin, bursting with excitement to see my new world.

In the harsh light of day it probably looks less magic to the humans, but to me it all seems extraordinary. I force myself to maintain a meandering human pace as I try and take it all in. There are games of chance and skill, a large tent containing a boxing ring, the tattooed man and lady, hot dogs and popcorn and candy floss and drinks. There’s a burlesque show and a trick horse riding show, musicians and acrobats, and above it all looms the Ferris wheel, still and quiet at this time of day.

Flynn is outside my tent when I return to it, a bucket of whitewash by his side as he paints over the ‘Madame Rosalinda’ sign. His cheerful whistling pauses when he sees me.

“There you are Alicia! Just making you a new banner,” he calls out.

“Oh!” There’s an open metal toolbox on the ground at his feet, filled with crusted tubes of paint and brushes in several different sizes. Kneeling beside it I pick up a paintbrush almost hesitantly run the bristles across my palm. I’ve never touched a brush before. I pick up a tube of paint, unscrewing the cap and smelling it, wrinkling my nose at the unpleasantly strong scent. Flynn watches me curiously, and self-consciously I replace the paint tube and sit back on my heels as he shrugs and goes back to his work.

I watch him work, surprised at how quickly and skilfully he paints my name on the banner, decorating around it with swirls of colour. “It’s lovely!” I say to him as he finishes and packs up his paints. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Flynn pauses. “How did you know that Rivera is my uncle?” he asks abruptly.

I shift uneasily. “I didn’t. I just saw that your future would be here with the carnival.”

“So, you’re the real deal then?” Flynn says slowly. “You see anything else for me?”

_The acrobat girl with the long brown braid. Heartbreak. A woman, and another, and another. Drinking. Another woman, a toddler on her hip and a baby swelling out her belly._ I smile at him and shake my head. “No. Just what I told you last night.”

Flynn nods thoughtfully. “Mmmhmm. A word to the wise then, Madame Alicia- be careful what you say here. People want their fortunes told, but when it comes to the future sometimes it’s not really the truth that they want to hear.”

I grin at him carelessly. He is not saying anything I haven’t thought about. I am well aware of the tightrope I will walk as I peddle the future and play with my visions out here in the human world, but just as I’ve learned to control my thirst I am confident that I will control this. “Oh, I know Flynn…but thank you for your concern. I shall be very careful as I play this game, you can be sure of that.”

He introduces me to Hildy and Walt, the tattooed couple from a few tents up the line. I gaze in fascination at the brilliant ink decorating their bodies, and seeing my interest they show me more and tell me the stories behind them.

I don’t think I have been this happy since the few brief days I spent with Garrett. Finally I have found a place for myself, and although it’s populated only by humans they don’t seem to be afraid of me. Even the somewhat eccentric costume I’ve put together to shield me from the sun raises no eyebrows, not here in this world of tattoos and strongmen and freaks, where the unusual has become usual.

When dusk settles in and the lights go on, everything changes again. I can barely hold back my excitement and I see Flynn eyeing me from the ring toss with amusement as I flitter about the entrance to my tent. Most of the money people pay me will go to Mr Rivera, and I’m well aware that he’s taking terrible advantage of me, but I don’t care. I am getting what I want too- somewhere to be, something to do; a place to practise being human and practice belonging where there is maybe enough room to absorb mistakes.

  Humans begin coming through the gate, laughing and excited. I hear the heart beats and smell the blood, but it’s okay. I can do this. Then the first couple come and pause by my tent, laughing and daring each other to have their fortune told as I sit in my chair and try to hide my joy. They hand over their coins eventually and sit down, both their girlish faces flushed with laughter and anticipation. I close my eyes and see them as they’ll become, and then I open my eyes and clear my throat and begin to talk.

It’s the beginning of something wonderful for me. The carnival gives me exactly what I need at this time and I embrace it. People who will accept me and a place where I can learn to be a friend. I make money and exercise my mind’s eye until it can summon the visions as easily and clearly as my outer eyes can see the world around. By meeting people and spending the time looking at their futures and wishes and secret desires I learn so much about humans and the nature of the world, storing all the information in my perfect memory as so many things begin to make sense to me. It’s a travelling carnival, and as we move slowly and haphazardly through the countryside I see more than I ever did on my flying vampire runs. I like to see so many different places and try out the new opportunities for hunting. There is so much to learn, and I’m hungry for it all. I want to know everything! Behind it all I’m aware of Jasper and the Cullens, and part of me knows that with every day that passes and every mile travelled I’m getting closer and closer to the time I will find them.

Then one day the carnival rolls over a hill and we set up in a muddy field in a small town. We’re in Tennessee and the town is called Gatlinburg, and for once my visions fail me because I have no idea how significant this stop is going to prove to be. 


	23. The Future in the Present

_Tennessee, 1924._

It’s cloudy and humid as we set up the carnival. I have become quite expert at pitching my tent and arranging my things inside it, and it looks rather different to the way it did when I first moved. I’ve taught myself to sew and embroider, and now the canvas tent sides are draped with floating fabric panels and the stretcher bed is covered with a quilt made of hundreds of tiny silk squares stitched together. The once dirty velvet cloth that covered the table has been cleaned and is now richly embroidered with a complex design of flowers and birds and stars, and I have made ropes of silk flowers that cross the ceiling and hang from the centre pole. Flynn taught me to paint and then the two of us decorated the folding screen with a scene of carnival life. It’s all so bright and beautiful and pretty, and I never tire of the ritual of packing and unpacking my little home from out of the large metal trunk I own each time we move.

I tie open my tent flaps and look down the midway. The sun is hanging low in the sky and I know that in the town the people will be getting excited to come. At the end of the midway the Ferris wheel clangs and clatters to life, the lights flickering as it turns slowly as the men test it out. I can’t help my smile.

“All right Alicia?” Mr Rivera calls as he strolls past.

I curtsy charmingly. “Very good Mr Rivera!” I grin at him. He and I are friends now- I have made more money for him than any of his previous fortune tellers ever did and I cause no trouble for him. If I appear to have a phobia of the sun and am sometimes caught leaving or returning to the carnival after hiking for hours out in the countryside and his monkey still hates me and always throws things at me…well, what does it matter when my predictions are known for accuracy and the customers love ‘Madame Alicia’?

“Any predictions for how we’ll go here?”

“Not a fortune, but not bad,” I tell him thoughtfully. I frown as my mind’s eye sees a vision of me, high on the Ferris wheel and laughing as I look out over the small town and the magnificent mountains beyond. I can’t quite see who is seated beside me. “I might need to close up early tonight,” I tell Mr Rivera, almost hesitantly.

Mr Rivera shrugs at me expansively. “Could I deny my favourite fortune teller anything? Close up when you want to darlin’, you’ve been working hard.” He waves and continues down towards the entrance, Lulu the monkey throwing a tiny handful of peanuts at me with a furious burst of chatter.

People begin trickling in as soon as he opens the gates, and for a little while I’m kept busy playing Madame Alicia. I’m trying to diplomatically word some advice for a girl who wants to know if she’s going to be married (the man she has in mind is more attracted to her brother than her) when a feeling of urgency crashes into my mind like a thunderbolt and even though I’m sitting down I almost stagger.

“Are you all right?” the girl asks in alarm.

“I’m fine!” I gasp, leaping to my feet. “Don’t marry him- he’s in love with your brother!” Leaving her sitting goggle eyed in shock at my small table I dart outside, not even sure what I’m supposed to find.

_Oh Jasper…I wish you were here with me to see this!_

At first I’m not even sure which one he is. There are four boys in the group bunched together at the side of the midway, the oldest one maybe fifteen and the youngest maybe eight or nine, all of them with the same curly dark hair and faces that could be younger versions of the face I know. It isn’t until the smallest one turns his head and laughs and I see the dimples that I know, and my stone vampire heart burns with a joy that’s so intense it’s almost painful.

It’s Emmett.

Emmett, who I’ve been seeing in my visions as long as I can remember, is _here_. Not the vampire Emmett, but the real, flesh and blood child Emmett…so close that I could touch him if I take a few steps. I can hear his heartbeat – _he has a heartbeat!_ \- and I can smell his blood as it hums through his veins. I watch him for a moment, and even in the sturdy nine year old body dressed in patched short trousers and a ragged shirt and bare feet I can see the lines of the man he’ll become. 

“But you have to!” He’s arguing with the oldest brother who is holding a fistful of money. “Ma said you had to bring me!”

“She didn’t say we had to babysit you,” the older boy counters. “We’re not looking after a baby all night, so bugger off Em.”

“No! Ma said! And you’ve got all the money!”

“Here,” the older brother flips a coin at Emmett who plucks it out of the air. I’m impressed by his human reflexes but then he sees how much the coin is worth and glares at his brother with a scowl so ferocious and familiar to me that I have to bite back a wild desire to laugh.

“That’s not fair! Give me more! Ma said you had to share!”

“Oh, go home and whine to Ma then, baby,” one of the others says impatiently, giving Emmett another coin and an irritated shove. “Go on, push off…we’ll meet you at the entrance later.”

The three older boys saunter off laughing, and Emmett is left alone, fists clenched in anger and eyebrows drawn down fiercely over eyes that are brimming with tears. _Oh, poor darling!_ I had meant only to watch, but I can’t see him like this and do nothing. Impulsively I step over to him, an indescribable quiver in my belly as his eyes meet mine.

“That wasn’t very nice of them,” I say, sympathetically.

“They’re gonna be in so much trouble,” he mutters. “Ma said they had to bring me and share the money and they haven’t given me enough to do anything!”

I give him a slow grin. _Now_ I know who I’m going to ride the Ferris wheel with… “I work here you know,” I say confidentially. “If you want to I can probably get you some free games.”

Emmett looks at me sceptically. “What do you do here?”

I wave in the direction of my tent. “I’m Alicia. I tell fortunes.”

“Yeah?” Emmett looks interested now. “Can you tell me mine?”

_Oh the things I could tell you!_ I laugh delightedly. I cannot take my eyes of this child, this living, breathing version of the vampire Emmett I have seen so often in my visions! I cannot stop looking at the blue eyes that I’ve only seen golden and smelling the way he smells as a human, of cookies and hay and horses and little boy.

“One day you’ll be bigger and stronger than _all_ of your brothers,” I tell him confidently, and his eyes sparkle. “You’re going to travel all over the world and live in so many different places, and have an absolutely extraordinary life Emmett.”

“Wow!” All traces of tears are gone, and Emmett is grinning.

I see him again in my visions, his dimpled grin as he looks at Rosalie with eyes of love, and I can’t resist. “You’re going to marry the most beautiful girl in the world,” I say. “She’s going to love you and you’re going to love her like nothing else.”

Emmett scoffs. “Aww, why’d you have to go and wreck it? You don’t know anything! I’m never gettin’ married! I’m gonna be a cowboy.”

I laugh in amusement. Oh, he’s so fierce and confident and such a _baby_! “Of course you are. Come on, let me close my tent up and we can go play some games. Are you hungry?”

Emmett follows me willingly back to my tent. “Can you even get food?”

“Of course.” I lead him further up the midway. “What do you want?”

I don’t know why I ask- he’s a nine year old boy and he wants everything! I get him a hotdog and then a second one, and we follow it up with popcorn and orange juice and candy floss.

“Thanks Alicia,” he says, grinning, pink strings of candy floss stuck to his round cheeks. “Can we go and do some games?”

I agree with alacrity, charmed by the humanness of this Emmett. I look at him, taking in everything that marks his body as human- the bruises and scratches and scabs on his legs, the gnawed down fingernails, the slightly too-large front teeth with the gaps beside them where adult teeth haven’t grown in yet, the raised pink scar that runs across his elbow and down his forearm. Watching him eat food, seeing him cough when he accidently breathes in a popcorn kernel, feeling the heat of his body walking next to mine, when he yawns and the way he scratches a mosquito bite on his arm…I am struck by what a privilege it is to see him like this. They are such tiny things, moments that no one human would give a second thought to but that I notice because I do not have them.  

“Duck shoot?” I suggest as we wander down the concourse. Flynn is handling that tonight and he smiles at me as we approach.

“Who have you got there Alicia? A champion shooter by the looks of it, I would think!”

“This is my friend Emmett,” I tell him proudly.

Emmett furrows his brow as he takes the rifle in his hands and weighs it up. “Did you rig this so I can’t win?” he asks suspiciously, and I giggle as I see a brief flash of vampire Emmett accusing Jasper of cheating in the exact same tone of voice.

Flynn winks at him. “Not that rifle son…not for a friend of Alicia’s.”

Emmett plants his feet apart and sights along the barrel. He’s a surprisingly good shot for a child and he wins a whistle, which seems to please him.

“You’re good at that,” I say to him.

“Pa taught me,” he answers. “My brother John’s got a rifle of his own and he sometimes lets me have a go. One time he took me out hunting with him and I got a deer! I can’t wait til I get big and can have one of my own.”

 “So they’re not mean to you? Your brothers?” I ask hesitantly, thinking of the casual way in which they pushed him away earlier. I am torn between wanting to pry every single detail of his life out of the child and knowing that I have no place in his life yet and I should stay away.

“Mean?” Emmett looks surprised. “Nah, they’re not any meaner than any of the other big kids. It’s just ‘cause they’re bigger than me that they’re always pickin’ on me and saying I’m a baby.” He frowns briefly, and then gives me a sunny smile. “They’ll beat up on anyone else who’s mean to me though! They were assholes tonight for takin’ most all the money and when I tell Ma she’ll give ‘em hell, but I’ve had more fun with you anyway. None of them got their fortune told and I bet they didn’t get so much food either, so sucks to them.”

I laugh, and watch Emmett’s eyes travel to the strong man competition. I’m wickedly tempted, and when he gives me a pleading look I can’t resist. “Let’s do that.”

He looks at me doubtfully. “You’re just a girl. You can’t do that.”

My eyes sparkle. “I bet I can beat you,” I say, which makes Emmett laugh. “Seriously…if you can beat me I’ll give you a dollar.”

“You’re on,” he agrees readily enough. “I don’t have any money though, so if you win I’ll have to give you my whistle.” He spits in his palm and holds out his hand to me, and I slap it.

From the outside it probably looks like Emmett’s got it in the bag. He’s not that much shorter than I am and he’s strong and sturdy and probably has twenty five pounds on me. Sure enough he swings the hammer with an exceptional amount of force for a nine year old and can’t stop his self-satisfied smirk once he’s done.

Oh, but it’s not a fair bet at all, of course- my only challenge is judging my swing so that I don’t break the machine as I bring down the hammer and make the bell ring at the top level. I know I’m showing off and doing something that’s the complete opposite of blending in to this human world…but damn it, it’s Emmett, and even if he won’t remember it I will! I know that I’m _never_ going to be able to beat him in a physical contest ever again, so I’m going to take my victory where and when I can get it!

He looks shocked at my victory, but he takes his lumps like a man and insists on giving me his whistle even though I try and call off the bet- I should have known he would. I hang the whistle around my neck, promising myself I’ll return it to him somehow before he leaves tonight.

He cheers up when Hans, who is running the strong man competition, gives him a stick of peppermint candy and then we go and visit Hildy and Walt, displaying their tattoos in their tent. We play ring toss and put the balls in the clowns’ mouth and do the other games. Emmett’s got a good eye and he does well, with only a slight sleight of hand trick Flynn has him win a bow and arrow set which makes his eyes crinkle up with glee as his dimples flash. We watch the fiddlers and then I get him a caramel apple and we sit up in the stands and watch the horse show. Finally I take him on the Ferris wheel and the two of us sit side by side as it revolves through the starlit night. Emmett is tired now and gives a couple of huge yawns, but he doesn’t stop smiling.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been up so high,” Emmett comments when we’re at the top. “Look down…it all looks so tiny.”

_It will look a lot smaller to you in the future,_ I think silently. _When you’re immortal Emmett, you’re going to go so far and see so much, this will all seem so very, very small…_

I walk with him to the entrance once our ride is done, so he can meet his brothers. I’m glad to see they’re waiting for him and as he runs over to them, already talking at the top of his voice about all that he’s done and showing off his prizes, one of them hands him a hotdog they’ve saved for him. Despite all he’s eaten already Emmett wolfs it down without stopping talking, and I wonder where on earth he’s putting all that food.

“Hey Emmett,” I call, and he pauses and looks back over his shoulder to me. I throw the whistle at him, and he catches it and gives me that dimpled grin I know so well from my visions. “You won it, so you keep it!”

“Thanks Alicia!” he shouts.

“You’re welcome….and Emmett?”

“Yeah?”   

“Watch out for bears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Two updates today, just because I love this chapter.  
> Okay, I admit I first wrote it simply to indulge my shameless Emmett-love…he’s always been my favourite and having him meet Alice as a human wasn’t too far-fetched so it was going to happen, damn it! The world always needs more Emmett, lol, (And more Kellan, please and thank you) and I think little guy Emmett was rather adorably fun.   
> But actually, there is a point to Alice meeting him and she will go in to it a bit in the next chapter and the ones after that. Thank you so much to everyone reading and reviewing and leaving me such positive feedback- it’s really wonderful to know that people are enjoying this.


	24. Quandary

_Tennessee 1924 – Georgia 1932._

I wait until the carnival is closed down and most of the people are either drinking by the fire or shutting themselves away for the night before I slip out unseen. Emmett’s scent is easy to pick up and I follow it without difficulty, through the town and out on the back roads towards the mountains, eventually leaving the road and travelling across some fields to a small wooden farmhouse.

I have no purpose beyond curiosity in following him. I just want to _see_. The house is tiny and I step carefully along the wrap-around porch to ensure my silence, peering through the windows that are open to catch any evening breeze. The kitchen is the largest room in the house, and alongside that there is a sitting room and two bedrooms. One of them sleeps Emmett’s parents and a small baby in a big bed, with a little girl of maybe three or four curled up asleep to fit into a battered wooden crib. The other bedroom holds the rest of the family- a girl who looks slightly older than Emmett asleep on a tall, narrow bed and the four boys on two mattresses crammed together on the floor. The quiet is loud with the sounds of sleep, slow even breathing and occasional sighs or grunts, and below it all the deep, regular thudding beats of hearts at rest.

Emmett is closest to the window, sprawled out on his back and fast asleep. The whistle he won at the carnival is looped around his neck and his new bow and arrow set is beside him, still held loosely in his outflung hand. He’s not wearing his shirt and his shorts have slipped down enough that I can see the paler skin low on his belly where his tan stops. As I watch him he smiles in his sleep and rolls onto his side, curling up into himself as his hand goes unerringly to his mouth and he starts sucking his thumb. He looks small and defenceless and I am suddenly swamped by guilt.

For the first time ever I am aware, _truly_ aware, that for my visions of the Cullen family to be real people are going to have to die. This boy, Emmett, is going to have to die.

A dog comes nosing around the base of the porch and then sees me. The fur on his back bristles and he draws his lips back in a snarl but before he can start barking I take one last look at Emmett and flee, leaping from the porch and speeding through the forest that starts behind the house and up the mountain.

I stop close to the top, sitting on a rocky outcrop and looking down at the world spread out before me. It’s so beautiful, and from this high above it all is peaceful and serene, with no hint of the chaos of feelings and emotions that it contains. I wrap my arms around my knees and hug myself as I shiver, not from the cold but from the tempest within me.

I have been a vampire in a human world for four years now. I have lived surrounded by humans, I have seen their hopes and ambitions and I have played with visions of their futures. I have talked to them and laughed with them and pretended to be one of them, but deep in my heart I have always seen the humans as other. While I understood on an intellectual level what Garrett told me about humans becoming vampires, without any human memories of my own I have never quite managed to connect the two states of being.

Yet tonight…there is Emmett, and I am being forced to balance the reality of the human he is with the vampire I know he will become. Face to face with the raw beauty and vitality of his humanity I begin, for the first time, to see the loss that is inherent in that change.

I close my eyes and summon the vision that flashed across my mind as Emmett left the carnival. My inner eye doesn’t want to show it to me and I struggle to grasp the images that shift and swirl in my mind like a mist, but I see enough. Emmett the man, screaming on the forest floor as blood soaks through his clothes and the bear growls. _That’s how it happens._ There’s flash of ice white skin and golden eyes as something streaks across the clearing. _And that’s how he’ll be saved._

I don’t know what to do with this knowledge I have now. It is one thing to see it happen, but there is nothing in the vision to tell me when or where this will take place. Clearly Emmett is grown and so it must be some years from now, but I can’t tell his exact age. Short of following him around every time he leaves his house, I can’t do anything about this.

But _can_ I change it anyway? Should I even try? I know that things I see in my visions can and do sometimes change, but I have never seen something and set out deliberately to change it. I don’t even know if it’s possible.

  _I don’t want to change it though, not really. I want him to be my brother, I want Rosalie and Edward and Esme and Carlisle…I want my family the way I’ve seen it._ I bite my lip as I realise the quandary I’m in now. Emmett is still human. Emmett could possibly be saved, but to save Emmett means I might lose the family I’ve dedicated my vampire life to finding.

I sigh heavily. I wish I _knew_ more! In all my visions of Emmett as a vampire he is, at heart, happy. It is entirely possible that he would choose human death and vampire life if the choice was offered. In my visions he loves his life, he loves the family, he loves his Rosalie…

_Rosalie._ As I think her name, understanding dawns. She is the vampire in the vision of Emmett’s death. She finds him dying and either changes him herself or takes him to someone who does. And if she is a vampire when Emmett dies, if I save him I take him away from her…

_I can’t do that._ Whatever new doubts I’m now struggling with, I don’t doubt that. Rosalie and Emmett belong together. I have seen the way they look at each other, I have seen the way they are together, and I cannot save Emmett if it condemns Rosalie to an eternity alone.

I put my head in my hands. It almost hurts to think this much and think this hard! Especially because there is no way to know what the right thing to do is. My visions show me many things, but the gaps and uncertainties and things I don’t know and can’t understand loom large when I try and untangle the issue of human death and vampire change and my family.

Right now, all I know for certain is that Emmett is a nine year old human asleep in a house that I could run to in moments, and that somewhere in the world Carlisle exists as a vampire. I _think_ Esme and Edward are with Carlisle but really…I don’t _know_ where the rest of my family is, I don’t know whether they are human or vampire, together or alone… I do not know if they can be saved from human death and vampire birth, and what’s more I don’t know if they shouldbe. Is this really such a bad life? Is trading humanity for vampire immortality losing or winning?

I close my eyes and think of Jasper, and visions of him rise easily into my mind. I feel the certainty of him and feel comforted by it- I have no doubts about him and what he will mean to me and what we will be when we are together.

_I wish you were here now. I wish I could talk to you about this…I’m so lonely Jasper. I wish I could be with vampires like me. I wish it was the right time for all of us to be together. How long am I going to have to wait?_

Not knowing if I’m running away or running towards something I leap to my feet and race through the darkness and back to the little home I’ve made for myself at the carnival, and this time I don’t go anywhere near the little house that holds the human child that is going to have to grow up and die to give me the family that I want.

I don’t see Emmett again. Gatlinburg is not a large town and we don’t stay long, and from seeing his house and family I doubt there is money for more than one evening out at the carnival. I don’t go looking for him either. I want to, I can’t get him out of my mind, but I know that I have no place in his life now, not when he’s human. It is clear from the vision of his end at the paws of the bear that he still has at least ten years, and I can’t do anything to interfere in that.

I look for him in my visions though. I have never seen him human in them before, but it’s as though I know what to look for now and he comes to me so easily. I see him growing up- I see him getting the strap at school and playing with his brothers and the little sisters I didn’t meet, getting in a fist fight with someone bigger and breaking his arm falling off a horse, I see him out hunting with the rifle and proudly displaying the eight point deer he has shot, laughing and drinking with his friends, dimples showing above a hand of cards. 

It makes me wonder about the others, and I try to seek out human visions of them too. Of Carlisle and Edward and Esme I see nothing. Rosalie is difficult- the visions are brief and fleeting and clouded and tell me almost nothing. Combining the little I know as fact with what I can interpret and infer from the visions, I am fairly sure that Carlisle, Esme and Edward exist in the world as vampires already and that, like Emmett, Rosalie is somewhere living a human life. I met Emmett by chance though, and it seems that unless I come across Rosalie in the same manner I will not be able to find her, as the visions of her offer almost nothing with which to establish her location.

I don’t look for human Jasper. For one, I am certain he is already a vampire, but I also candidly admit to myself that it would make no difference if he wasn’t. So certain am I that Jasper is mine and that we will be together, I think I would change him myself if I had to. When it comes to Jasper, I know that all I have to do is wait.

While I wait, life in the carnival keeps me busy and learning all the time. Being part of this makeshift community has given me a place to belong and the closest thing to a family I have right now and as time passes I realise again how fortunate I have been to find them. Most of my differences are merely passed off as eccentricities, and my talents at fortune telling are treated with a kind of gentle respect. Despite all that I am very careful with it- I keep my predictions general enough and make enough deliberate mistakes that no one ever suspects the full extent of my abilities.

Except perhaps Flynn. Since the first prediction I ever made for him he has listened to me with an attentiveness he tries to conceal, and I don’t have it in my heart to lie to him. He’s my closest friend, and if I ever try to change anything my visions tell me will happen it is because I want to save him pain. Sometimes it works, like the night I tell him the horse will stumble and he will fall during the show and he checks her hooves and finds a loose shoe that would have tripped her. Sometimes it doesn’t work, like when I tell him the acrobat girl with the long brown braid will break his heart and he falls in love with her anyway.

“I should listen to you,” he slurs through his tears, as he sits slumped at my fortune telling table the night he finds her in bed with one of the trick riders. I pour the whiskey and pat his hand sympathetically. “You’re always right, ‘Licia.”

I slosh another measure in to his glass. “You _should_ listen to me. But she wasn’t right for you. You’ll find someone else.”

“Should have known…” he mutters. “Never tell me wrong, you…” He lurches towards me and I think if I let him he would kiss me, but I catch him adroitly and steer him towards my stretcher bed, where he collapses with a groan.

“You’re a good girl,” he breathes. His eyes land blearily on the side of the screen that he can see from where he’s lying, the side that no one usually ever sees. “Hey, you been painting back here…who’s that?”

I perch on the edge of the stretcher, my fingers touching the texture of the oil paints in the golden eyes. “Just people I dream of sometimes,” I say softly.

Flynn’s arm wraps around my waist. I am so tired of being alone! Even as I know there is no point, that I cannot love this human and be with him in the way that I want to love someone and be with them, I sigh and let his hands pull me down so that I lie on my side beside him, curling my back into his chest as his arm lies heavily across me. I know I’m cold and hard and won’t feel right to him, but I also know that he won’t remember this in the morning and, just for once, I am tired of being cautious.

“I wonder ‘bout you,” Flynn mumbles. He’s so drunk he can hardly talk, I can only guess at how much he drank before he staggered in to my tent with his tears and his whiskey bottle. “You’re magic, ‘Licia, aren’t you?”

I laugh at him gently. “No more so than you.”

“Nah,” he disagrees. “You are…you tell the future and you know everything. And you don’t never change, not at all.”

I still, my eyes looking at the painted portrait on the back of the screen that matches the unchanging visions of the Cullens that I’ve been having for years. _No, I don’t change, not ever at all._ I have known this of course, I realised very quickly that nothing about me grew or changed _,_ but I have closed my eyes to what it means for me trying to live in this human world.

“You still look just the same as the first day,” Flynn says, and his breath feels warm on the back of my neck as he strokes my hair. “Just still the same pretty li’l girl who told me I was gonna run the carnival…”

I gently take his hands which are groping at me with drunken over-familiarity, and I briefly press a kiss to his knuckles. “And you will Flynn. But you’ll have to do it without me.”    

“Wha?” He can barely open his eyes as I turn around in the narrow space of the bed to look at him. “No, you can’t go…gotta stay and be my fortune teller.”

I shake my head regretfully. Lying here, pressed against him and only inches away from his face I can see clearly the truth that I have shut my eyes to. It is 1932 now and I have been ten years with the carnival. In that time Flynn has broadened and thickened and there are lines in his sun-browned face that were not there the night I first wandered into this world and he coaxed me to play the ring toss. But I am as small and slight and pale as ever, my perfect vampire skin showing no line or mark to represent age, my hair still as short and glossy and dark as it was when we met. It makes my heart ache, but I can’t stay here while people grow and change around me when I do not.

“I have to go,” I whisper to him. “You’ll do fine without me Flynn. You’ll never have a fortune teller as good, that’s true, but you’ll do fine.” I see his future and there are rocky times ahead, but he loves the carnival and working for it will never be a burden on him.

Flynn wraps his arms around me and then shivers. “You’re cold sweetheart.” Fumblingly he drags my quilt up and over me, and then kisses me gently. He tastes like whiskey and feels so warm and human I wish I could cry. “I love you Alicia…gonna miss you.” His eyes drift closed and I feel his body sink down into boneless slumber against mine.

I arrange the quilt carefully over his sleeping figure and then sit beside him, listening to his slow breathing and steady heartbeat as I stare at the painting on the back of my screen and wonder bleakly when I will ever find that place that I really belong in.

 


	25. Loneliness and Love

My heart is heavy when I leave the carnival. I want no fanfare or fuss so I tell Flynn and Mr Rivera quietly that I will be leaving, and then slip out near dawn one morning when there is no one to witness my leave taking. I take only a small knapsack with some clothes, leaving the rest for whoever they will find to take my place. Tucked into my pocket is my precious piece of paper with Jasper’s poem on it and around my wrist I wear the bracelet I won the very first night I went to the carnival, although the glass stones are dull and the cheap metal is tarnished after so many years.

Behind me, I leave a note for Flynn. I am not sure I’m doing the right thing, but he has meant so much to me that I want to do something for him, and my visions and insight are the best things I have.

_Dearest Flynn,_

_You have asked what I see for your future, and I always said nothing more than what I told you that first night. I lied- I see much further than that. Foreknowledge can be dangerous though Flynn, both for those who see it and those who do not use that knowledge wisely…take what I will tell you now and use it to make your life better._

_The carnival will be yours soon, although you will not take control with any sense of joy- I am sorry about your uncle, for he has always been kind to me. There are hard times coming- do not expand the carnival, and save up your money where you can because you will need it! Don’t despair though, my friend, it may sometimes seem impossible but if you have faith the carnival will survive and the good times will return._

_Her name will be Helene. She will not be what you think you want, but for once you must listen to me and give her a chance! She is exactly what you need and will make you so happy. No more acrobats for you…just wait for Helene. She will even get along with Lulu the monkey!_

_Thank you so much for being my friend Flynn. You have given me more than you will ever realise, and I love you dearly. Yours ever, Alicia._

Leaving the carnival is a hard wrench for me and the loneliness returns, the same aching chasm of longing opening up in my heart as I find myself living a life with no one to share with. I search my visions of Jasper and the Cullens frequently, but nothing in them hints at where they might be now or how much longer I will have to wait.

With no plan in mind I wander up the east coast of the country which is somewhere I’ve never been before, testing myself with the greater concentration of humans in some of those states. I even visit New York City, loving the bustle of the crowds where it is so easy for me to be anonymous, where if anywhere brushes against my hard body or ice cold skin they are usually not even sure who they touched. I love that there is so much going on in the city- shopping and plays and theatre and music. I spend hours watching the people on the streets and in the park, and even more hours wandering the stacks of books in the public library reading and learning. It is there, in the library, that I find my next clue.

I’m reading the newspapers. I don’t usually do this, because I read so fast that the constant rustling of turning pages tends to annoy the other library patrons. But today this particular newspaper, not one of the big city papers but a smaller local paper from a town I’ve never heard of, just happens to be lying on the table and I absently pick it up. It must be my psychic nature at work but I don’t even think of it as odd until I turn the page and stop dead, because there _she_ is. Rosalie.

I recognise her immediately. Even as a human, even in the slightly blurred black and white photograph printed in the paper, she has an almost other-worldly beauty that makes her stand out, even on this page of society photographs full of beautiful people. The picture shows Rosalie in a long dress, her hair in an artfully arranged formal style as she stands with her hand tucked into the elbow of a handsome man who looks all wrong to me simply because he is not Emmett.

_Royce King II and his fiancée, Rosalie Lillian Hale, attend the Rochester Charitable Foundation’s Annual Ball which was held at the home of Peter and Elizabeth Stratford-Banks._ I read the caption underneath and feel the way my hand trembles slightly with excitement. It’s her, it’s my almost-sister Rosalie and now I have a full name and a location and I can find her if I want to… I don’t hesitate.

I _should_ hesitate. I _should_ think twice - three times! - before I go searching out the human that will one day be my sister. I _should_ remember the way human Emmett and his future human death has haunted me since I saw him as a child, and decide to stay well away from human Rosalie and the thread of her human life and what impact I might have on that. But I don’t. Instead I walk right out of the library and head across the state to the city of Rochester.

 It isn’t difficult to find her. I have her name and her fiance’s name and, since they were photographed for the society pages, I guess that they will be well known in certain sectors of the city. After only a few brief, discreet enquiries I locate her father at work in a bank, and since it’s now early evening I simply wait for him to finish work and then follow him as he walks home.

I have to wait for darkness to fall before I can see her. The house is large and gracious, set in a large garden on a city side street, and there are too many people about as I follow her father to risk slipping in behind him. Instead I continue to walk the streets, impatiently waiting for nightfall so I can return.

There are lights shining in a few rooms of the Hale house when I slip through the shadows in to the garden later on. The kitchen- I somehow doubt I’ll find her in there so I move to the window of the sitting room where I see her parents, her mother needlepointing while her father smokes his pipe, but no Rosalie. That leaves the lighted window upstairs, so I scale a tree and finally, there she is.

Outside in the dark, where no one can see me, I let the smile grow on my face. Unlike seeing Emmett as a child, I’m seeing Rosalie exactly as I’ve always seen her in my visions, only human. She’s wearing a nightgown which charms me, because of course vampire Rosalie of my visions never sleeps, and she’s seated in front of her frilly dressing table and brushing her hair. My eyes cannot move away from the face in the mirror and the differences I see there- the pink flush to her cheeks and the dark blue eyes that look at her reflection with complacency.

As I watch she plaits her hair into one long braid that hangs over her shoulder, and then sits for a moment, contemplating the glittering diamond ring on her finger.

“Mrs Royce King,” she murmurs, and then stands up and gracefully inclines her head to her own reflection in the mirror. “Hello, I’m Rosalie King. It’s nice to meet you.” She draws her shoulders up and stands with all the arrogant confidence of a girl who is eighteen and beautiful and knows it. “Why yes,” she says confidently. “I am Mrs King…of course, I must just speak to my husband…”

I want to laugh, but she’s taking herself so seriously! At least until she looks at herself in the mirror and her haughty, serious face relaxes into an amused grin. “You know what he expects of you!” she tells herself, mock sternly. “Imagine if he saw you now, behaving like such a silly girl!” She pokes her tongue out at herself and then takes the ring off with a sigh and drops it in to the crystal jewellery tray.

There’s a knock at the door and Rosalie jumps into the Queen Anne bed with its pink quilted coverlet. “Come in!”

It’s her mother, who is very much an older version of Rosalie, although without the perfectly sculpted features which make Rosalie exquisite rather than merely pretty. “I just came to see if you were ready for bed. You need your rest Rosalie, if you expect to look your best on the big day.”

“I’m in bed,” Rosalie says, fiddling with the silk edging of her quilt. “Oh!” she says, raising her head. “Vera asked me to pay a call on her tomorrow evening. She has a gift for me, and she hasn’t been able to get out of the house for days because the baby hasn’t been well.”

A brief look of irritation crosses her mother’s face. “Rosalie, you can’t be going to a house where there’s illness. Not with your wedding only a week away! And we’ve spoken about this before dear, but although Vera is a lovely girl she’s perhaps not the most appropriate friend for you in your new circumstances.”

     Rosalie’s mouth sets in a stubborn line that is intimately familiar to me. “I know what you said Mother. But the baby is well now, he’s just had a fever and she doesn’t want to bring him out in the cold. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to be so rude as to refuse to call when she’s made me a gift.”

I am surprised at the lack of warmth between mother and daughter. I have longed for a family so fiercely for so long; but my dreams have always included great love and affection. I am somewhat disturbed by the slight disapproval and wariness that seems to exist between Rosalie and her mother.

Rosalie’s mother sighs and nods. “Very well, go and see her tomorrow evening. But don’t be surprised if your new husband has some things to say about what friendships you retain and the company you keep once you’re his wife.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes. “Goodnight Mother.”

Her mother leaves, turning out the light as she does so, and I see Rosalie lie back in the dimness, staring up at the ceiling and running her braid through her fingers. For a moment she looks wistful, and it’s only my sharp vampire ears that allow me to catch what she whispers next.

“It will be all right when I’m married. It _will_ be…”

I stay where I am, concealed in the tree, until Rosalie’s face relaxes and her breathing slows into the regular rhythm of sleep. It is only then that I drop lightly down from my high vantage point and hurry away from the house, my mind whirling with what I’ve seen and the new information I have gleaned.

She’s going to get _married._ The thought of it makes me feel uneasy. In fact, the more I think about the human Rosalie the more uncomfortable I feel that I have come poking around in her life. I wish I hadn’t come here.

I think back to seeing Emmett all those years ago in Tennessee and understanding for the first time that his human self would have to die for his vampire self to be born. I remember how tormented I was by the question of my responsibility towards him and whether I could, or should, attempt to change his fate. I have to admit that in the end, I have simply avoided really answering the question. I decided that I would not save human Emmett if it meant taking him from vampire Rosalie, and since I did not know the where and how of her vampire change it did not trouble my conscience to leave it all to chance.

Still thinking deeply, I leave the outskirts of the city and run until I reach the shore of what I know must be Lake Ontario. I walk until I find a comfortable concealed space under a bush and settle in for the day, although I am not expecting a restful day with my conscience in such turmoil.

Rosalie’s life is in imminent danger. That is the inescapable fact that my curiosity has delivered to me. Everything about her human self is the way it will be in her forever unchanging vampire form. The length of her hair, the curve of her cheek, the shape of her eyebrows and mouth and cheekbones…all of it needs only a bite to be changed from pink and cream flesh and blood to the icy sculptured perfection I’ve seen in her future.

I don’t know how she is going to die. I have never been able to see the human Rosalie easily and I have never looked for her death, preferring not to know. But now, torn by a guilty conscience, I close my eyes and search her out.

_Vampire Rosalie, screaming in rage…human Rosalie, white face under a bridal veil…vampire Rosalie with glowing red eyes under the same white bridal veil…human Rosalie, cowering in terror on the floor, one eye bruised purple and a trail of blood dribbling from her lip…vampire Rosalie in the throes of furious destruction…human Rosalie, her hair cut shorter, sobbing as a bloodstain grows on her dress and drips to the floor beneath her…_

The images flicker and flash, twisting and swirling through my mind and none of it makes any sense! I open my eyes, sickened by what I’ve seen, but none the wiser. I have not seen Rosalie’s death. I have seen two alternate futures for her, one as a vampire and one as a human, but in neither does she seem happy. There is no clear path here.

I sigh, watching the sunlight reflect off the surface of the lake. I wish I hadn’t come here. I wish I didn’t know…or I wish I knew more. How can I make a choice for someone else, when I only have half the pieces of the puzzle?

_Jasper, I wish you were here. I wish I was with you…how much longer? I feel like I’ve learned enough alone; isn’t it time to learn about together?_

I have come to no decision about my duty to Rosalie when darkness falls. I hunt through the forest until I find something to drink, draining the blood and then moving slowly down to the water to wash my hands and face. I’m slicking my hair down and wiggling my toes in the mud when I suddenly find myself falling into the strongest and most frightening vision I can remember. Not since the vision of Esme on the cliff have I felt such terror.

_Oh Rosalie…no!_

Human death is one thing, but death like _that_ , coming at the hands of the man she’s supposed to love and being dealt out with such malevolent cruelty…oh no. I _can’t_ let her die like that, not even if it means I will lose her in forever!

Even as I run, faster than I’ve ever run, the world blurring past me as I speed through the streets letting my instincts and visions guide me, I know I will be too late. That as I leap across rooftops and come closer to flying than I I’ve ever done before, the men have Rosalie and are dragging her down to hell…and when I am finally there, or as near as I can get which is still half a block away, I clap my hands over my mouth to stop my scream because this is worse than horror. They have made her bleed, and I can’t go closer because if I do I will not be able to resist killing her myself for the taste of that blood.

There is nothing I can do. I crouch down on the rooftop, gripping the balustrade so hard that it crumbles to dust in my hands as I hear her scream, and then I hear the casual laughter as the men saunter and stagger off down the street, leaving her broken and alone.

_Oh Rosalie, I’m here…you’re not alone._

I am paralysed with horror and indecision, but then there is a flash of movement below and someone is kneeling by her side. Someone with hair pale in the moonlight and the voice of kindness itself as he murmurs her name. Someone who gathers the broken, bleeding body that was once so perfectly made and beautiful up in his arms and whisks it away, never knowing that my eyes watch from above.

I want to kill them for what they have done to her. I have never felt hatred like this, never wanted to take life for punishment, but this time…oh, for what they have done they will pay! But before I can move another vision comes to mind with the force of a blow. A red eyed vampire Rosalie, face twisted with pain and rage.  _“None of you are to do anything! He will pay -oh yes, he’ll pay!- but I want to be the one to deal out justice for this. You’ve taken everything from me…at least leave me this. At least let me choose how it ends.”_

I sigh, and let the tension leave my body as I lie back on the flat rooftop, staring up at the glittering stars scattered across the sky above me. I will do nothing. Rosalie will become a vampire and she will take her revenge and it will be hers. I will never tell Rosalie that I was here tonight. I will never let on that I saw her at her most vulnerable and most damaged- I could not save her but I can give her that. I can let her keep her pride and deal out retribution to those who hurt her.

The ache of grief is sharp in my chest and I wish, not for the first time, that I was able to release it in tears.

The stars above me are beautiful as I stare at them and wonder bleakly what happens to me now. I did not expect that long ago day when I first saw the people in my visions and knew that they were my family that learning to love them would hurt so much. I hope I am brave enough to keep on loving…the loneliness has always been so hard to bear, but it comes to me as I lie on the roof smelling Rosalie’s blood on the breeze, that with great love comes the capacity for great pain, and that may yet prove more difficult. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I got a bit carried away here and in the last chapter, with all the philosophy but it’s one of the more interesting themes of Twilight- that of free will and destiny and fate. It’s usually talked about in relation to the wolves imprinting, but Alice’s visions raise questions too, of how much of the future is set, what can be changed and whose responsibility it is to change it… I don’t have any answers or anything, myself, but it’s endlessly fascinating to think about.   
> In regards to Alice not seeing Rosalie’s death- I’m going with my own personal theory on that here. I tend to believe that Royce King was a horrible person and he and his friends had probably raped other girls in the past. I think when he meet and got engaged to Rosalie he had every intention of marrying her- that whatever he might do to her in private (and it would have been nothing good, Alice was seeing that potential future) he meant to have her as his beautiful wife who would look good on his arm, keep his house running, have his babies and basically shore up the respectable public image he needed to maintain. I think that on the last night of Rosalie’s life he and his friends were out and drunk and would have assaulted someone, but it wasn’t until Rosalie came across them that it became her fate, and so that is why Alice didn’t see it until it was too late.   
> And last thing…I know everyone wants Jasper! But up until now he’s been too busy building armies and slaughtering newborns down south with Maria to go traipsing about the countryside making himself available for Alice to play with! In all honesty I didn’t mean for this story to go on so long, I thought I would have had him turn up long before now, but he’ll be here next chapter, I promise.


	26. In the Diner

_Philadelphia 1948._

It’s my dress.

I stop dead on the street, staring at the dress on the mannequin in the window, not even moving when the suited figure behind me bumps hard into my back and then stomps around me muttering. _It’s my dress!_ Heedless of the crowds and the wary looks I’m attracting I clap my hands in glee and skip across the pavement to touch my fingertips to the glass. _It’s my dress!_

Soft white fabric printed with cherries, the full skirt gathered together at the waist with a red belt, a v-neck and short fluttering sleeves…it is everything I have ever seen in my vision of meeting Jasper. As if in a dream I push my way in to the store.

“The dress in the window,” I tell the salesperson, trying to keep the tremor if excitement from my voice. “I’d like to try it on.”

I don’t think I do a good job because the saleslady, who is little more than a young girl, smiles at my enthusiasm. “Isn’t it beautiful? Come and see if we’ve got it in your size.”

I come out of the dressing room and twirl in front of the mirror. I can’t stop smiling. “It’s exactly right!” I exclaim gleefully.

The girl is smiling. “It suits you, it really does. Shall I pack it up for you?”

I don’t want to take it off, but as I look out the window at the rain and the late afternoon sun I know that although this is the right dress, today is not the day I will meet Jasper. I sigh regretfully and nod.

“Is there a diner nearby?” I ask, as she packs the dress in layers of tissue paper in box.

“Oh sure,” she says chirpily. “There’re a few different ones, but Sandy’s is just down the street and they do a really good burger. Just go to the right when you leave.” She smiles at me amiably and I grin back.

I see the diner from across the street and for a moment I feel my whole body quiver with the enormity of what is soon going to happen. _Jasper._ After all this time of waiting and hoping and longing all the pieces are falling in to place. The dress, the diner, the shiny shoes I found last week and have carried in my suitcase through this unfamiliar city…all of it is just the way I have seen it. And soon I will see him. _With you in waking and dream shall I be…._ The dream of him has guided me for twenty eight years. It is time for the waking.

I retrieve my suitcase from the locker I secured it in at the train station earlier in the day and then take a room in the hotel next door. Since I don’t sleep I rarely bother with this, but it’s been some weeks since I was able to bathe and I’m not meeting Jasper without washing my hair and scrubbing the dirt from under my nails.

I take as long as I can in the bath, scrubbing every inch of me, and then I call down to the desk and borrow an iron and iron my clothes. My shoes are brand new but I wipe every dust mite off them before I buckle them on, and then I kneel by the window and watch the quiet city street, waiting for the sun to rise on what is going to be the most beautiful day of my existence.

It is mid-morning when the bells above the door in the diner jangle to announce my arrival. It is not busy now, the breakfast rush is well over and there are only a few people scattered about, drinking coffee and eating pie and reading newspapers or talking quietly. I want to dance and leap and twirl with the joyous exuberance I feel, but I force myself to walk demurely to an empty booth by the window and take a seat. _Today. It’s going to be today…Jasper my love, it’s today!_ I reach in to my pocket and take out the poem I have carried for so many years.

            The paper is soft and worn with age, the printed words blurred with handling, as I gently flatten it out on the table in front of me. I don’t need to, the words have been committed to memory for years now, but I find the familiar act of unfolding the paper and reading the lines comforting.

“Anything I can get for you, hon?”

The friendly but impersonal voice of the waitress breaks into my thoughts as she approaches my booth. I smile at her sweetly. She’s got bleached blonde hair with two inches of grey roots and her apron is dirty, but everyone is beautiful to me today. “A cup of tea please, and a donut.” I won’t eat it, but I don’t know how long I will have to wait and it will give me an excuse to linger.

She places a chipped white cup and saucer in front of me, and a plate with a large, greasy looking donut beside it.

“Thank you!” I say brightly, and pretend I don’t notice her smile falter a little as she looks into my eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she says, after a pause that probably no one but I would notice. “Anything else you want, you just call.”

I drop my eyes back to the paper in front of me. One edge is jagged, as though it was torn out of a book, and once again I wonder what happened to the rest of the book. My eyes scan too, the handwritten scrawl at the bottom of the page, the pencil faded after nearly thirty years. _Alice- you called him Jasper. Find him. Good luck._

_Jasper._ I have to stop myself from dancing with impatience in my seat, and I whisper his name like it’s a talisman. _Jasper._ I’ve been waiting so long, and now it’s finally time…it occurs to me briefly that most people would be nervous in this situation, but even the idea of it makes me giggle. _Jasper_. I can’t be anything but joyful, knowing that soon – soon!- he’ll be walking right through that door and then I’ll never be alone again.

I pretend to take a sip of my tea, keeping the grimace off my face, and pick at the donut, slipping the crumbs under a napkin. Outside, the Philadelphia sky is grey and dreary and there is a sudden spatter of raindrops against the diner’s window. As the rain settles into a steady downpour I sigh and sit back. I know that I won’t see him until the sun comes out. There’s nothing to do now but wait.

Time ticks by. I crumble my donut and hide it in the napkin. I read a newspaper. The waitress brings me another cup of tea and I ask for a piece of pie, and then I have to try and dispose of that as well without eating it. I watch the lunchtime crowd flow in and eat and flow out, but even with all that delicious scent and the hypnotic siren call of the heartbeats my focus never wavers. _Jasper._ I know it’s going to be today. The dress, the waitress, the way the sun breaks through the clouds and makes the wet pavements gleam…everything is right. Everything matches the vision I’ve carried in my head and heart for the past twenty eight years. I prop my chin on my hands, looking out the window and waiting, and then my heart soars and my whole world blooms bigger because there he is.

The chimes above the door ring and he steps through. _Jasper._ He’s wearing ill-fitting grey serge trousers cinched together at the waist by a belt, and a threadbare shirt that might once have been red but is now more of a faded pink, and a grey pinstriped waistcoat that somehow manages to match neither the trousers nor the shirt…and despite this fashion disaster he’s still the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. His hat is pulled low over his forehead and he’s looking down so that I can’t see his eyes, but I can see the dull gleam of his blonde hair and the long, strong masculine fingers as he reaches behind him to pull the door shut. _It’s finally you. After all this time…my Jasper._

I don’t even hesitate. Not now, not after all this time of waiting. Instead I rise to my feet and smooth the crumbs off my sweet cherry print dress and swiftly move to his side. He turns his head sharply and takes a step back, but nothing can stop the dizzying swirl of happiness I feel inside. I tilt my head to peek under the hat and his blood red eyes meet my glowing golden ones and I feel my whole face light up with my joyful smile.

“Jasper,” I say softly. “It’s you…you’ve kept me waiting a long time.”

I hold out my hand to him, and I watch his face shift from taut suspicion to a kind of incredulous happiness, and then he bows his head and gives me the crooked grin I’ve seen so often in my mind as his fingers fold around mine. “My apologies ma’am,” he murmurs, in the syrupy Southern accent my ears have been aching to hear. “My apologies…I’m here now.”

To be touching him! The feel of his large hand curved around my small one…oh, I hadn’t known it would feel like this! Wonderingly I reach up and touch his cheek with my fingertip, tracing the line of his jaw, brushing across his lower lip.

“I can scarcely believe it’s you,” I breathe. “I’ve been waiting so _long_ Jasper, and now you’re finally here.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain,” he says to me softly. He shakes his head, looking a little bemused. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

I giggle, realising that he has not been having visions of me for twenty eight years and I am, in essence, a stranger to him. “Oh no, we haven’t exactly met. I’m Alice.”

“Alice,” he repeats thoughtfully.

I haven’t released his hand, and I tug him gently back towards the booth. “Come, sit down.”

He does so a little warily, looking around the diner uneasily and then glancing out the window at the bright sunshine making the wet street gleam. As the waitress approaches us his jaw tightens and his body tenses.

 She smiles at me in a friendly way. “Well, he turned up then, hon! You’ve been waiting all day…I hope he’s worth it! The two of you want anything?”

_Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve really been waiting!_ But I look at the face, so familiar and beloved already, and know that my Jasper is more than worth the wait.

“Some more tea please,” I say to the waitress, and then turn my attention back to Jasper once she leaves. He is looking at me with puzzled curiosity, but all I can do is beam. I know he must be dreadfully confused, but nothing can dampen my joy at having him here within reach.

I wait until the waitress returns with a teapot and pours us each a cup before I begin talking. “I’m Alice,” I say again. “And I know that you’re Jasper. I’ve been looking for you…”

“Who sent you?” His face goes taut. “What do you want with me?”

My face falls. “No one sent me. I…I _saw_ you, I saw _us_ …” My words trail off as his face remains hard. I have been so focussed on what we will be together that I have failed to give a single thought to how we will get there. How do I explain what I am to this man whose entire being screams out defensiveness?

“I can explain everything,” I say softly, gathering my thoughts. “But I promise you that I mean no harm, and you can trust me.”

Jasper nods slowly. “I believe that.” He shakes his head again, and rubs his chin thoughtfully as he examines my face.

Impulsively I reach across the table and lay my hands over his. For a moment he sits stiffly, and then his face relaxes into his crooked smile as he turns his hands over to clasp mine. “Extraordinary,” he murmurs. “I don’t…please Alice, explain this to me.”

I feel like I’m floating with joy, the only thing anchoring me to the earth are his strong hands holding mine. “I see things,” I tell him. “I always have. Visions of the future, of what I’m supposed to do, of whether people are friends…you were the first thing I ever saw.” I stroke my fingertips along the lines in his palm, memorising the touch and feel of them. “I’m not like other vampires- I don’t remember being human. I never have. I just woke up one day I this is what I was.” I pause for a minute. “The visions came right from the start, and the first thing I ever saw was you. I knew your name, I knew what you would look like, I knew how we would meet, I knew what we would be to each other…I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

For a long time he doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t take his hands away from my touch. Instead he watches as my fingers continue their slow and caressing exploration of his hands. “When you saw us together…what did you see?”

Saying it out loud feels like I’m throwing myself off a cliff, not sure if I’m going to fall or fly. “I saw that I love you,” I say simply. “I saw that you love me. I saw us together.”

There is silence, and then a slow smile blooms on Jasper’s face. “This is nothing but crazy,” he murmurs, “but I believe you, Alice.”

He raises my hand to his mouth and gently kisses my knuckles, and I shiver because my body just can’t hold on to everything I feel.

“I feel things,” Jasper says, so softly I can barely hear him. “I can feel the emotions of vampires and humans when I’m near them. It’s like…waves, or vibrations or something of that nature. Being with you, right now…I cannot describe it Alice. I have been a vampire for eighty five years, and I have never felt like this.”

I rise to my feet, keeping my fingers curled around his to bring him with me so that we are standing side by side. For a brief moment I lean into him, and every nerve and sense in my body flares with awareness at being so close to him. His hand touches my cheek and as his blood red eyes meet my golden ones I know he feels it too.  

“It’s good though?” I say. “It feels right?”

_Oh, the smile on him!_ “Oh yes Alice. It feels right.”

“That’s all you need to think about now then.” I drop some money on the table, and the two of walk hand in hand out of the diner.


	27. Feeling Hope

Jasper and I walk through the city hand in hand. We don’t talk. There is so much we need to say, and yet none of it matters more to me than just being together. I am hyper aware of the feel of his hand in mine, the way he automatically shortens his long strides so that our paces match,  the scent of him that tickles at my senses and makes my spirits soar, because it makes me feel like I’m finally home.

He is not as good at playing human as I am. The awful clothes – _what was he thinking?!_ – are not what you would wear to blend in. His movements are slightly too quick, stillness too still, the predatory turn of his eyes and head when he smells someone particularly appealing, all of it mark him as something other. I find myself smiling at him, and wondering what he’s thinking as his eyes stray to me walking at his side and a quizzical smile lights up his face.

“Are you…always like this?” he asks eventually.

I giggle. “Like what?” I don’t think I’m being _like_ anything…I’m just walking! I’m not even talking!

Jasper chuckles. “It’s difficult to explain the way feeling emotions work, but you…being around you makes me _happy._ ” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, and shakes his head. “Happy…” he murmurs.

I beam at him. Through my visions I already feel as though I know him intimately and I’ve loved him so deeply for so long… I want him to feel it too. I want him to feel the beautiful certainty of belonging to someone that I have had to comfort and sustain me during my long years of waiting.

By unspoken agreement we turn and walk into the public gardens as the sun begins to set, taking a seat deep in the shadows of an ancient willow tree. I cannot help but notice the wary way his eyes map the space around us and his nostrils flare as he absorbs the scents on the breeze. I feel my smile falter, just a little, as I wonder what has happened to make him so afraid. As I sit beside him I can’t help but lean my head against his arm and breathe him in, but my heart shrivels a little as I feel him flinch at my touch. I move away.

“I’m sorry,” he says stiffly.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

For the first time since I approached him in the diner, Jasper turns his face to mine and our eyes meet. His eyes are startlingly red, but the sadness in them touches my heart and I can’t stop myself from clasping his hands in mute sympathy. For a moment his eyes close as if he’s in pain, and then he opens them and smiles at me wonderingly.

“You’re shining,” he breathes. “I can feel it all Alice, I can feel the love…I’m almost afraid to believe it but I _know_ it to be true.” The light in his eyes is almost too beautiful for me to look at, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

“It _is_ true,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you why Jasper, or how it happens, but I have always known this was waiting for us. I have loved you so long...” My words drift off as Jasper’s hand cups my cheek.

“Tell me,” he requests quietly. “Tell me about how you found me.”

“I saw how it would be,” I say simply. “Long ago- I saw the diner, I saw the waitress and the dress and the other customers. I saw the way the sun would come out and make the wet city sparkle and you would come into the diner so you didn’t shine with it.” I look past him to the deepening twilight, feeling the cooling breeze on my skin. “That would have been sometime in 1920, I don’t know the exact date. I didn’t know when I would find you, the vision was all I had to go on, but I knew it would happen. It started to fall in to place when I came here recently, I found the shoes and then I saw the dress in a store and then when I found the diner…” I shrugged. “I knew it was time. I would have gone back every day until you came, but I knew it wouldn’t be long.”

Jasper nods, absorbing my story. “You have no human memories?” he asks. “None at all? I’ve never seen that.” He pauses and eyes me speculatively. “For what purpose were you made?”

“I’ve no memory of being human at all,” I answer him. “I don’t know who made me. I woke, alone, and I was alone until I met Garrett a short time later. He taught me a great deal about what I am, and about playing human in the human world.”

“It would have been frightening to wake alone?”

I consider his words, a little surprised by them. “No,” I say softly. “I wasn’t afraid at all. I knew that I had _you_ , you see. It didn’t really matter to me, what happened in the meantime, as long as I found you eventually.”

The smile he gives me illuminates his rather stern face, making him look infinitely younger and more vulnerable.

“I didn’t stay long with Garrett,” I continue. “It was too difficult. I’ve been alone since then…I’ve been so lonely Jasper.” I drop my eyes.

“I may not be what you’ve been waiting for,” his voice is laced with pain, and I raise sympathetic eyes to him. Jasper withdraws his hands from mine and sits more stiffly on the bench, staring down at his knees. “I know you think I am; I know how you feel but…”

“You don’t understand the visions,” I interrupt. “That’s all Jasper- you’ll soon see.”

“You may decide the visions were wrong after you hear my story,” he says, so quietly I have to strain to hear him. “I’m not sure I am deserving of your emotions.”

I shake my head furiously. “Nothing you can say will make the slightest bit of difference!”

Jasper gives a wry chuckle. “Such certainty!” He meets my eyes for a brief moment, with eyes that hold the pain of the world in their ruby depths. “But please Alice, listen to me and what I have to say. Just hear my story.”

I nod because, although nothing he says will change what I’ve seen for us, I am wildly curious about this beautiful vampire man and the path that has brought him here to me.  

“I was born in 1844 in Houston, Texas,” he tells me. “I lived an ordinary enough life for the times, until the war broke out. I lied about my age so I could go for a soldier, and in time I became the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. I was nineteen. I was riding alone to join my regiment one night when I came across a vampire named Maria, with her two sisters Nettie and Lucy. I stopped to offer her assistance, and she bit me and began the transformation.” He pauses. “I don’t know how much you know about the vampire wars of the South…”

I shake my head. “Not so much. Garrett warned me to stay away.”

Jasper smiles sadly. “Wise advice. Maria was one of the major players in those games of power and revenge, and she was involved in the creation of newborn vampire armies to use as her pawns. In me she had created an able lieutenant.” His mouth twists. “Maria grew to depend on me. My battle experience gave me the knowledge I needed to train her armies, and when they had outlived their usefulness it was my task to destroy them.” He looks me in the eye. “I did this for many years, as distasteful a task as it may have been. It was more than just the task though- it was being constantly surrounded by the maelstrom of newborn emotions that I found so difficult. They were always angry, always afraid, always aflame with desire for the blood…there was no peace Alice, never any rest.”

I cannot help but reach out and touch him. The unhappiness he feels as he tells me his sad memories is almost palpable, and all I want to do is soothe his hurts.

“I made a friend, a vampire named Peter,” he continues. “He had been one of the newborns and had made himself useful enough that he avoided the usual massacre at the end of a year. He became my next in command, far more erudite and civilised than most of the newborns I dealt with, and when time allowed it we would talk. One night when we were slaughtering those Maria had no more use for, it came the turn of one named Charlotte. As I approached her Peter shouted her name and the two of them ran. I could have caught them, but I had no heart to make an end of my friend.

“For a time things went on as before, but the constant emotional storm…it could not but begin to affect me. The emotions of those I was slaughtering, always so intense and devastating…I did my job, but things had changed. Maria sensed that my allegiance to her was weakening. Her feelings when she was around me became suspicious, sometimes even malevolent, and I knew that unless I did something first my days with her were numbered. She was ruthless and there would have been no mercy, despite what I had been to her.

“It was at this point that Peter came back. I cannot speak highly enough of his loyalty to me, because he risked his life returning to Maria’s sphere of influence merely to tell me that it was not the only way to live. Since he and Charlotte had fled north they had met several other covens and all existed peacefully, with none of the violence and bloodshed of the Southern covens and their constant warring. The emotions coming from him as he spoke of the life he was living with Charlotte then…he was so happy, and content. I left with him immediately.”   

Jasper takes a deep breath. “I spent some time with Peter and Charlotte, becoming accustomed to a more peaceful way of life. But even killing only humans to feed, the emotions are still difficult to bear. The terror as they feel their doom approaching...” Jasper shudders slightly, before he goes on. “In the end I felt that my constant sadness and depression had burdened Peter and Charlotte long enough, and I took my leave of them to find my own way. Since then I have been wandering fairly aimlessly…until today.”

I smile at him, because although his story has made my heart ache for what he has been through it all leads so beautifully to the life I have seen for us with the Cullens! If anyone needs the love and support of a family it is this suffering vampire and his sensitive soul.  “Dear Jasper, it must have been dreadful for you. But there is another way. You don’t _have_ to feed off humans.”

The eyebrow he raises at me is silently disbelieving, and I can’t help but giggle. “You must have noticed my eyes,” I say, and after a moment’s hesitation he nods. “They used to be as red as yours when I fed from humans,” I tell him. “But now I feed only from animals, and they’ve gone gold.”

“It’s not possible,” Jasper says flatly. “It _can’t_ be possible.”

“I haven’t killed a human in seventeen years,” I tell him, trying to eliminate the trace of smugness in my voice. “And that was a mistake; I have been trying to live off animals for almost as long as I remember. It’s certainly not _easy_ , but it’s possible. And it gets easier with time.”

Jasper looks at me incredulously. “Animals? That’s all you hunt?”

I nod. “And it’s not just me. There’s a family, the Cullens, and I’ve been seeing them in my visions too. They’re going to be our family Jasper, and all of us live on animal blood.”

At the mention of other vampires, Jasper’s face goes taut with wariness. “This coven…the Cullens…what do you know about them?”

“I’ve been seeing them almost as long as I’ve been seeing you!” I say cheerfully. “I’ve always seen us going to them. Just think Jasper, a _family._ Carlisle and Esme, Edward, Emmett and Rosalie…I can’t wait to meet them!”

“You haven’t met them?” Jasper questioned.

“Not exactly,” I say. “My visions are not always straightforward. Sometimes I don’t see things or I don’t see the whole picture, and sometimes I see things I don’t understand. I saw the Cullens and their yellow eyes but I didn’t understand about the animal blood until I met Garrett and asked him about them. He knew Carlisle and he explained how he lived, but when Garrett knew him Carlisle was alone.” I smile at what has remained one of my favourite memories. “I met Emmett once, but he was still human then. Just a child. They’re all vampires now though, and when we go to them we’ll be part of the family too, and I’ll never have to be lonely again.”

Jasper looks at me wistfully. “You really believe this is all possible?”

I clap my hands together. “It’s _more_ than possible Jasper, I know it! And it’s going to be so wonderful…you’ll be happy Jasper, I can promise you that. You’ll be happier than you have ever been.”

He smiles, and I can tell the picture I am painting with my words is tempting him. “I haven’t told you all that I can do,” he says suddenly, and his smile slips. “It’s not only that I feel the emotions of others, but I can influence their emotions too. It was why I was so useful to Maria really, I could calm the newborns when necessary, make them aggressive and crazed with rage when it was time to battle.”

I purse my lips thoughtfully. “That explains that then. I always felt the emotions when I would have visions of you, far stronger than anything I felt with anyone else, but I didn’t realise that you were causing them! It’s the thing with my visions you see, I don’t always see the whole story, or know the context.” I smile at him. “Please show me how you do it.”

A slow smile curves over Jasper’s face, and a moment later my own smile disappears as I feel icy fingers of fear trailing over my spine, every nerve in my body tightening with a feeling of intense, unnameable terror. “Stop it,” I say tremblingly. “Stop now…”

A moment later I am awash in a feeling of peace and contentment so deep and profound I can’t stop the sigh as my body relaxes, all fear and tension and anxiety disappearing under the wave of wellbeing. “Oh my…” I murmur, with a half laugh. “That’s rather amazing.”

 Jasper’s eyes are glowing. “Try this one,” he says softly. “I’ll give you another…this is what you’ve made me feel Alice, the first time I have felt this in so long I had nearly forgotten it…”

I wait, and then the emotion touches me so strongly I gasp as my own smile lights up my face as I look at him. “Hope,” I breathe, and feel the world open up with possibilities all around us. “Now you feel hope…”

 


	28. I am Yours and You Mine

We find ourselves locked in to the public gardens when we go to leave, and we laugh as we scale the wall and jump down.

“Where to now?” Jasper asks me.

“Would you like to try hunting?” I ask. I peer into his red eyes wonderingly. “It’s better to go before you really feel the burn of thirst, the thirstier you are the harder to resist the humans. But I can’t tell how thirsty you are. I’m not used to the red.”

Jasper shrugs. “I can wait. But if you think we should go pre-emptively, perhaps we should.” He smiles his familiar crooked smile. “You’re the expert on this way of life!”

I giggle. “Oh no, I’m not! Carlisle… _he’s_ the expert! I’m just trying to follow his lead.”

Jasper shakes his head. “It sounds so strange to hear you talk of them and feel your emotions when you do so, and yet remember you’ve never met them. You feel about them the way people do about family, familiar and beloved.”

I clasp his hand in mind and swing them between us as we walk along. “I forget I’ve never met them sometimes! I’ve spent so much time watching visions of them all, and not visions of big or important moments…just tiny moments of friendship and family. I was so lonely Jasper and all I wanted was to be with people who were mine, who understood who I am and with whom I could be myself. I knew they were out there, so in my mind I kept looking for them. I didn’t even look for anything important really, I just wanted to see them being themselves.” I flash a grin at him. “I’ve seen so much already- I know the way Carlisle uses his wisdom and experience to guide them all, I know that Edward can hear people’s thoughts…and I know how Rosalie hates that! Esme just wants to take care of them all, she’s very happy in herself and with Carlisle, and I know how much Emmett likes to play. You’re going to love them all too Jasper, I know it.”

I pause for a moment, as Jasper smiles and squeezes my hand. I know he likes what I’m telling him. “It’s going to be so different to what we’ve known before,” I say softly. “No more loneliness. And imagine the love Jasper, imagine how that will be for you to be surrounded by people who love each other and are bonded like family.”

He breathes deeply. “It sounds amazing. Maybe even worth eating animals!” he adds with a chuckle, and I giggle with him.

“It’s not _so_ bad,” I say consolingly. “You get used to it, anyway!” We reach the hotel where I left my suitcase, and I make Jasper wait while I go and fetch it. He takes it from me in an entirely unnecessary but rather gentlemanly show of manners, but raises a questioning eyebrow at me.

“My things,” I say airily. “My clothes.”

He looks a little baffled, and I shake my head and click my tongue at him. “Clearly you don’t understand the importance of clothes, Jasper. Much like my visions though, you’ll just have to trust that I know best when it comes to this particular issue!”

He looks down at the appalling garments he’s wearing and then looks back at me with a look of such comical bemusement that I can’t help laughing. “Clothing matters that much?”

“That you have to ask!” I’m still laughing, but I’m honestly horrified. How can someone not understand? “Oh dear…the things I have to teach you, Jasper!”  

He laughs, and my heart lifts. If there is one thing this vampire needs to learn more than anything else, it’s how to laugh. He’s too serious, too sad…there is too much weight bowing down the beautiful spirit inside. He needs to laugh.

We leave the city in the darkness, although we don’t hurry. Neither of us feel overwhelmingly thirsty and this time we are spending together, suspended between what we were and what we will become now that we have each other, is precious and fleeting. I head north out of the city, knowing instinctively that Jasper will find the transition to hunting solely animals difficult and thinking that if we head up through rural New York and towards the lakes and Canada we will have the space and opportunity we need for him to acclimate.

He relaxes once we’re away from the city, away from the humans. He asks about the animal diet, and I have to be honest with him about the difficulty.

“It’s not easy,” I tell him. “At the start it can be very, very hard. I’ll help you, and they will all help too, when we find the Cullens. You will do it, I’ve seen that.” I don’t tell him of the visions I’ve had where his eyes are blood red and he’s clearly faltered. I remember how much the visions encouraged me at the start, when the only reason I persisted with what seemed impossible was because I had seen that it _was_ possible. I want to give Jasper that too. “Sometimes I couldn’t do it,” I add soberly. “There were times when it was too hard, the temptation too great and I lost the struggle those times.”

Jasper nods. “And the Cullens…you’re sure about them?”

“Oh yes!” I have no doubts on this. “When I met Garrett he told me all about Carlisle and he was just as I had seen him. He’s been living on animal blood for all his vampire life, and he’s so good at controlling the thirst and playing human that he even works as a doctor! He and Esme are married. I saw him change her in my visions once, and I think he changed Rosalie.” I frown briefly. “Rosalie saved Emmett from a bear, I saw that, but I don’t know if she changed him or if she took him back to Carlisle. I don’t know about Carlisle and Edward, I think they were vampires before me.”

“You say Edward can read minds,” Jasper said slowly. “I don’t believe that I like the sound of that.”

“Is it worse than someone who can see the future or influence your emotions?” I ask lightly, and Jasper chuckles in acknowledgement. “It felt strange at first, when I realised that was what he could do, but from the visions it doesn’t seem to be a problem. You’ll like him Jasper- I see you being such friends with all of them.”

We find our way to a deeply forested area in the early hours of the morning. I raise my eyebrows at Jasper with a teasing smile. “Well, Major Whitlock, do you think you’re ready for this culinary adventure?”

Jasper nods gamely, but can’t hide the doubt in his eyes. “When you say animals…which ones do you mean, exactly?”

“Well, things like deer and elk are easiest,” I say, scenting the air. “They’re not the tastiest things though. Carnivores are harder to catch and not as plentiful, but they do taste better. Mountain lions and foxes and coyotes are good. Bears are _very_ good, because they taste good and they’re big so there’s lots of it.” I look at him hopefully.

“Very well,” Jasper says stoutly. “Lead on Alice…never let it be said that I turned my back on a challenge.”

I push my suitcase under the low hanging branches of a spruce. Not that any humans have been anywhere near here in years, but it’s become habit to hide my things. Then I begin to run lightly through the forest, searching for a fresh scent with Jasper loping beside me.

“Can you smell them?” I ask quietly, slowing down a short time later.

Jasper’s nostrils flare. “Deer?” he guesses.

“Yes.” I slink closer. There is nothing human about my movements now, not when stealth is needed for hunting. Jasper mimics my actions, and the two of us are soon looking across at a small herd of deer, grazing their way through a thinner patch of forest. I crouch, ready to spring, then glance across at Jasper to make sure he has done the same. His body his braced, his eyes moving from the deer to me and back again. I nod at him slightly and then, trusting that he’ll follow, cross the space between me and my prey in a bound.

I catch a doe, pouncing on her and bringing her to the ground in one movement, my mouth tearing through the hide in seconds to breach the artery. The longer I have been able to go without human blood the more appealing the animal blood becomes, and this tastes good now as I gulp it down.

My eyes slide sideways and I see Jasper, down on his knees as I am, frowning in fierce concentration over the body of the deer he brought down. He finishes and sits back on his heels, his lip curling as he looks at his prey, which still has blood dribbling from the bite marks on its neck.

I drain my animal completely and then lay the limp body on the forest floor, smiling across at Jasper. “Well done!”

“You say it gets better?” he says doubtfully, and I laugh comfortably.

“It does!”

Jasper sighs and sits down with his back against a tree. “Well, it wasn’t completely distasteful,” he admits. “But I can’t say I find the idea of it as the sole means of nourishment appetising.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “But there’s no emotion involved in the death,” he adds, and a smile creeps across his face.

I scamper over to him and fling my arms around him. “It will make such a big difference for you! I’m so happy, Jasper.”

There is a moment’s hesitation and then I feel his arms go around me. At first he holds me almost tentatively, but when I remain still in his embrace the tension leaves his body and he draws me closer. I wriggle over until I am sitting astride his thighs, and then I lean against him with a sigh, closing my eyes to better savour this moment. Oh, he smells so beautiful and he feels so _right_ here in my arms…how have I ever been able to manage so long without him?

Jasper buries his face in my hair, his hands stroking the length of my back as he breathes me in. “Alice…”

I raise my face to his, and the look in his ruby eyes is just as I’ve always seen it in visions, only now it’s _real_ and happening right now…”Jasper,” I whisper, and that is enough. I curve my hands up and they tangle in his golden hair as I draw his mouth down until his lips meet mine and we’re kissing. The taste and feel and touch of him…this is everything I ever thought it would be, and I want to fly with the joy buoying up my heart.

I don’t know how long I spend kissing him. Time means nothing when everything in me is focussed only on him, on the feel of his lips on mine, his hands stroking my hair and back, the taste of his mouth and face and neck, the way we fit so perfectly together. He must be able to feel my happiness at finally being with him, and with his peculiar gifts he not only feels it but reflects it back, heightening my own feelings until it is as if we are caught up in golden bubble of perfect, exquisite contentment. _Finally we’re together. Just like it was always meant to be._

It is only when my hands drift to the first button on his shirt that he falters, and his large hand covers mine so that I can’t undo it like I mean to.

“Jasper,” I say, leaning away from him briefly so I can see his face. “What are you doing? Please don’t say you’re suffering from any misguided notions of gentlemanly behaviour.”

“No, it’s not that,” Jasper gently takes my hands and places them on my thighs with a sad smile. His own hands go back to the button and he slips it undone hesitantly, still holding the shirt closed as he looks steadily into my face. “You need to be prepared…it’s not comfortable to look at Alice.”

My visions have shown me nothing of this, and I watch in confusion as Jasper slowly undoes the rest of his buttons and slips his shirt off, watching me all the time. My breath catches as his body is revealed, so beautifully and perfectly masculine, and yet he is right that it is not comfortable to look at because the skin that should be diamond hard and flawless is marked all over overlapping scars. Clustered most thickly over his forearms there are fewer on his upper arms and torso, and I am able to see in the raised welted scars the clear imprint of teeth.

Jasper’s face is a blank mask as he awaits my reaction. “It’s not very pretty,” he says softly, and I shake my head.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper. “It’s just that I think how much it must have hurt…who did this?”

“The newborns would bite,” Jasper’s voice is quiet. “They never wanted to die Alice, even when they hated their miserable lives they fought to keep them.” He brushes a hand absently over the raised scars on his forearm. “They would fight, and I would win…but I will bear the scars as a reminder of all that I’ve done for the rest of my immortal life.” 

Oh, this beloved vampire man of mine is so damaged, so hurt and vulnerable! For all he hurt others he has suffered a thousand times over…I bow my head and press a kiss onto the scar that is ridged over his collarbone.

“They will remind you of what a very good person you are,” I whisper passionately. “They will remind you of the violence and bloodshed and brutality you have overcome, because you _will_ overcome it…darling Jasper, you need to forgive yourself.” I move across his chest, kissing each scar and mark and imperfection, trying to make him realise that none of it matters to me, that he is and always will be perfect in my eyes. _So perfectly beautiful. Meant to be mine._ I am almost dizzy with how much I want to be with him.

He feels it too, and this time there is nothing tentative about the way he gathers me up in his arms and crushes me against him, his mouth seeking mine. I cannot stop my wordless murmur of pleasure as my legs wrap around him instinctively as I kiss him, feeling every inch of me pressed against him, around him… _Jasper. Finally._ He bears me down onto the ground with him, and he doesn’t let go and he doesn’t stop, and I find out that there is at least one thing that the visions could never give me the full measure of.

_I am yours and you mine._


	29. Finding Home

_Maine 1950._

“Let me fix that for you.” As Jasper leaves the bathroom of our hotel room I step over to him and straighten the collar on his shirt. I smile at him and stand on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. “You look perfect.”

Jasper gives me a wry look. In the year and a half we’ve been together his sense of style has come along in leaps and bounds- he’s much more debonair than he was and no longer looks like he dressed in something he found in an alleyway (which was in fact where he usually obtained his clothes!) - but he doesn’t have the same appreciation for the little details that I do.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I say with mock sternness. “Not today, of all days!”

“Of course not, ma’am,” Jasper bows, and then runs his fingers gently over my hair. “I know how you’ve been looking forward to it.”

I can’t resist hugging him, and he laughs as he hugs me back. “It’s going to be wonderful,” I whisper fervently. “Home with our family at last.”

Jasper looks at me with eyes as clear and golden as my own and nods. We’ve come such a long way together in these past few months; in some ways it feels like it’s passed in moments and in other ways it feels like it’s already been forever that we’ve been together.

The transition to an animal diet has not been easy for Jasper. It is _still_ not easy. Eighty five years of feeding from humans is a hard habit to break when every instinct in your body demands it and every sense cries out for that satisfaction.

We spent several months roaming the Canadian wilderness, away from all human scent and temptation while Jasper grew accustomed to hunting animals. Since then we have moved in and out of towns and cities as Jasper learns to hear the siren call of the blood and feel the demanding burn of the thirst and close his mind to it all, maintaining the human façade at all times.

There have been mistakes during that time, many of them. For so long he lived on instinct, his body trained to react to stimuli even before his mind caught up, that it requires a constant, exhausting vigilance for him to keep control. I have slipped too; in the face of his ecstatic, desperate feeding on an unfortunate who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time my control broke too and I tore into the body beside him and shared the forbidden feast. 

My visions have shown me that it will likely always be a struggle; but there have been more successes than failures for us and I believe we have much to be proud of. Golden eyed and controlled and able to move among the humans undetected as something other…we have done well, Jasper and I.

Our relationship too has only grown and deepened during our time together. In the beginning it was sometimes difficult because I had known him in visions so long that it was all so sweetly familiar and comfortable to me…and yet to him I was almost a stranger. He had to learn to accept love and understand that it came without strings attached or dark motives underpinning it- it was merely there, his for the taking. Oh, Jasper has learned not only to let me love him, but he learned to love in return and he has bloomed like a flower in the sun with the joy of what he feels now. Alone we have lived in a bubble of perfect passion and caring and happiness, being everything to each other as we learned and explored together.

There is still darkness in his soul and pain in his heart for what he has lived through but he looks for the light now and he usually finds it. And held safe in my embrace he has learned to laugh.

We’re ready to go to the Cullens now. I didn’t understand at first; just as I didn’t want to wait for Jasper I didn’t want to wait for our family either, but now that it’s over I can see that it was necessary. Jasper was not ready for me, not ready for our life together when I was first made; and I needed time alone for experience, and to learn to be who I am and discover who it was I wanted to become. We have needed this time together, just the two of us, to build a foundation for the relationship that is going to carry us through forever and I have treasured it.

But now we’re ready for them. Jasper’s control is getting better and I know that being with them will help him. I have loved them from a distance for thirty years and I am aching for it all to become real, finally. So we looked for them and have found them living on an isolated property outside a small town in Maine that they only recently moved to, and today we will at last go to them.

I skip over to where I left my suitcase and toss the book I was reading in on top and snap it closed. Jasper buckles the duffle bag he carries and slings it over his shoulder, then looks at me with a half-smile.

“Ready darlin’?”

“Only for years!” I giggle, tossing my suitcase over to him. Not that I can’t carry it just as easily myself, but it is very large and I am very short so people do tend to stare if I do. Much less odd just to have Jasper carry my things…I really do appreciate being a girl.

I pick up the red leather bag that matches so delightfully with the cherry print dress I’m wearing- the same one I wore to meet Jasper, and that is still my very favourite thing I own. I check inside the bag where I have the money I need to pay for the hotel room, and a few other bits and pieces. Briefly I touch the inside pocket that holds my poem and the tarnished, glass beaded bracelet I won in the carnival so long ago…they are my talismans and I want their luck today.

“It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?” I say, and for the first time ever there is a note of uncertainty in my voice.

Jasper gives me his crooked smile. “Sure it is Alice. Haven’t you been telling me so all along?”

I square my shoulders. “You’re right. I have…and I’m _always_ right.” I giggle at the sceptical look he throws my way, and then together we leave the room.

We walk to the Cullens through the thick forest that surrounds their home, the miles disappearing under our rapid vampire strides. It is only as we get closer that we slow to a more human pace, both of us feeling the same mixed emotions of happiness and anxiety.

“This is it?” Jasper pauses on top of a small rise. Looking down through the trees I can see the outline of a large old wood framed house, the trees growing up almost against its sides.

I nod. We are downwind of the house and I suddenly grip Jasper’s hand in mine as a scent, new but familiar, drifts past my nostrils. _Vampire._ “It’s them,” I breathe.

Jasper smells it too and his hand tightens on mine, but whereas I feel nothing but excitement I can see the wariness in his face. I stroke his cheek and when he bends down towards me I place a gentle kiss on his tense lips. “It will be fine,” I whisper tenderly. “Please my darling, please don’t be anxious.”

Jasper’s hand curves around my head and he presses his forehead against mine, his golden eyes glowing as they look at me from only inches away. “I know. I trust you…let’s go.”

My face breaks open in a smile, and with a deep breath I lead the two of us down the slope to where we will meet our new family, all currently quite unaware of our existence, let alone our proximity.

Carlisle and Esme are sitting together on the porch. The both rise to their feet as Jasper and I appear from behind the trees, identical looks of shock on their faces as they take us in. I can barely restrain myself from running up the steps and flinging myself into their arms, but I know I shouldn’t and instead I squeeze Jasper’s hand and give a little hop of excitement.

“They’re just as I always saw them!” I squeak. “That’s Carlisle and Esme, Jasper!”

Beside me he shivers and makes a quiet noise of surprise. “They’re wary,” he murmurs. “She’s afraid, a little. He is curious…oh.”

There’s a noise behind them and Rosalie steps out on to the porch, her eyes trained on Jasper and I, her face a mask of suspicion.

“She’s frightened,” Jasper murmurs, so low I can barely hear him. “Be careful Alice, she will turn aggressor if she feels too threatened…”

I know he only wants to protect me, but there is no need. This is my family, and once they just _understand_ …I move to the bottom of the porch steps and beam at them. “Hello!” I chirp. “I’m Alice and this is Jasper.”

I can feel the giggles bubbling up inside me. How can I be speaking such banalities when I have known them and loved them in visions for thirty years? How can I introduce myself when everything about this feels like coming _home_ to me?

Jasper inclines his head but doesn’t speak, and I can feel the gentle waves of calm he is sending out. Carlisle’s expression doesn’t change but I visibly see Esme relax and although Rosalie doesn’t stop scowling she shakes her head as if she feels something odd. Carlisle steps forward, regarding Jasper and I with calm curiosity.

“Hello there. You’ll forgive us if we were a little surprised to see you. We don’t often have visitors, and others of our kind…well.” He smiles his familiar smile. “I’m…”

“Carlisle Cullen, I know,” I interrupt. “And Esme and Rosalie…where are Edward and Emmett?” I had expected them all to be here and I am disappointed to find that they are not.

“Not at home just at present,” Carlisle says. He doesn’t elaborate, and I flick through visions, seeing them coming home in the evening with the light golden eyes of having recently fed.

“Oh, hunting,” I say, disappointed. “They won’t be back until this evening.”

Carlisle looks warier now, and Jasper places a hand on my shoulder.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he says, in his gentle drawl. “I am Jasper Whitlock, and this is Alice. We’ve come a long way to see you. If you’d be prepared to listen to what Alice has to say, she can explain it all.” He smiles his crooked smile at me and I kiss his fingers on my shoulder and look hopefully at the Cullens.

 “Of course,” Carlisle steps back and indicates the comfortable looking solid wood porch furniture. “Sit down and welcome.”

I bounce up the steps, dragging Jasper with me. He leaves our bags at the foot of the steps, and the two of us sit together on a long bench seat. Carlisle and Esme sit on the chairs across from us and Rosalie, clearly less than comfortable with our presence, leans against the porch railings with her arms folded defensively.

I have to force myself to sit decorously still, since all I want to do it jump up and down and clap my hands with glee at finally being home. “I don’t really know how to start,” I say at last. “I’ve been seeing you for such a long time, I feel as though I know you.” I look at their familiar faces and smile. “But you don’t know me at all.”

“Perhaps you should start from the start,” Jasper murmurs at my side. I can tell he is keeping the emotional level around us all low and smooth.

“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “I became a vampire back in 1920. I woke alone, and I don’t know what happened before that. I don’t remember being human at all, or who changed me. But right from the moment I became conscious I began seeing things in my mind. Flashes of knowledge and visions of the future. I saw Jasper right away, and I knew that I would find him eventually and we would be together. And then I saw you.” I hesitate. “I saw all of you…us…together. A family.” I clench my fists, feeling awash in the same desperate feeling of longing I felt so long ago.

Jasper strokes my hand. “Alice found me about a year and a half ago. She told me about what she had seen and she taught me to hunt animals and live without feeding from humans, as she herself had been doing for some years. As she saw _you_ did.”

Carlisle leans forward and I meet his gaze. He’s smiling, still looking a little confused, but I know he can see the clear gold of our eyes and that backs up our words. “You saw that?”

“Not at the start,” I say honestly. “I saw your eyes, I knew what you all looked like but I didn’t understand the visions then. I wasn’t sure at first about the time of it, you see- it took a little while before I understood that I could be seeing things from any point in the future. It was Garrett who told me about hunting animals.”

“You know Garrett then?” Carlisle leans back in his chair. It is clear he finds my story intriguing.

“I met him early on,” I tell him. “He was the first vampire I ever met, fortunately for me because I was making something of a mess of things!” I giggle. “All I had were my visions and my instincts. Garrett taught me about secrecy and blending in, and when I asked him if he knew you all he told me about you, Carlisle. He said you were alone when he’d seen you last, which was a few years before.”

Carlisle looks thoughtful. “You said 1920? Yes, of course it was only Edward and I then, and he didn’t meet Garrett until later.”

“I saw the others join you over time,” I say, glancing at Esme. “I saw you…fall. And I saw Carlisle bite you, and I was so happy to know that you were together. I saw you save Emmett from the bear,” I say to Rosalie, deliberately not mentioning her own end. “I was so lonely all those years that I was waiting, but it comforted me to know that you all had each other. I have wanted to come home to you so much! I know that you might find it hard to understand just yet, but we’re all going to be a family, and it’s going to be so good for everyone.”

Carlisle and Esme are smiling at us, but Rosalie’s face is nothing but unfriendly as she looks from Jasper and I to Carlisle and Esme.

“You believe this story?”

Carlisle raises his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes.

“And really, if it’s true, does that make it any better?” Rosalie says aggressively. “Isn’t it bad enough having Edward around eavesdropping on everyone’s private thoughts? Do we really need _another_ psychic in the house?”

“Rosalie,” Esme murmurs soothingly, but I can’t help giggling.

“I’m not like Edward,” I tell Rosalie brightly. “I can’t read your mind, I just see what you’re going to do, and the visions change if you change your mind…you won’t mind me once you’re used to it. Well, you won’t mind me _much_ ,” I amend, feeling the need to be honest here. I look back at Carlisle and Esme with pleading eyes. “You do believe me? We can stay?”

Carlisle glances at Esme and Rosalie, and nods. “We’d be happy to have you stay. I’m not sure I fully understand your visions Alice, but it will be a pleasure to get to know you both.”

I beam at him. “You won’t be sorry. I’ve seen it, we’re meant to be a family, all of us.” I look at Jasper. “Our room is at the top of the stairs.”

Rosalie laughs suddenly, and her beautiful face is transformed. “That’s Edward’s room,” she says.

I giggle back at. “Not anymore,” I say as she looks at me with a gleam of amusement in her eyes, and it’s the first moment of connection between me and this beautiful vampire girl who is going to be my sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- Just wanted to say Merry Christmas to everyone reading this! I hope you all have a lovely holiday, and thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review or pm me~ I appreciate it so much, and it makes the whole writing process so much more enjoyable to have that feedback as I’m going along!  
> I don’t know how I’ll go updating this over the next week or so, but I will be back and it will be finished off, promise. But for now it’s Christmas Eve and I get to go and play Santa for my little ones…yay!


	30. Explanations

“What about you, Jasper?” Carlisle asks, his voice friendly. “How did you come to find Alice?”

Beside me Jasper’s body stiffens, and I place my hand on his thigh and smile at him softly. Despite all that I’ve told him he still fears that they will reject him for his violent past.

“I was changed when I was nineteen in 1863, during the War,” he says quietly. “I was a Major in the Texas cavalry when I was waylaid by a vampire named Maria, who changed me. She wanted soldiers for the war she was waging in the South…I became her second in command. I trained her newborns and took care of business for her.” He meets Carlisle’s eyes squarely. “I lived a lifestyle very different to this one.”

Carlisle nods. “We are the exception, I know that. I have heard a great deal about the southern vampire wars. You were lucky to escape the carnage.”

Jasper shrugs. “Yes, I had luck…and sometimes you become a bigger monster that those you fight against.”

Rosalie eyes flash at the words and her hands curl into fists. I remember the flashes I had of her revenge, and bite my lip. Jasper is not speaking of her, but I know intuitively that his words have touched on one of the raw places in her soul that she keeps hidden.

“I had more than luck though,” Jasper goes on slowly. “I have an ability that served me well in those circumstances. I am able to influence the emotions of those near me, so when I was working with the newborns I could calm them or rile them up as needed.”

“You were doing it to us before, weren’t you?” Rosalie says sharply. “When I first came out I felt…well, then I was just curious and calm.”

Jasper meets her gaze honestly. “Yes. I would not have Alice hurt for anything, and I wasn’t sure how you would react to her story.” A ghost of a smile, half amused and half admiring, passes across his face. “I could feel that you would defend your own if you felt threatened. You are…fierce, Rosalie.”

 Carlisle chuckles and Esme smiles. Rosalie tosses her head with a scowl.

“I feel people’s emotions too,” Jasper explains. “It has been difficult to live with, and it made feeding from humans into a nightmare as I would take in all their fear and rage with their blood at the death.” He turns and smiles at me, his face lighting up as he looks at me and I touch him gently. “I left the south and came north with a friend of mine, looking for a new way of life, not even sure if it was possible for me. And then I found Alice. She changed everything for me; she introduced me to the animal blood diet and she told me about the family the two of us would have.” His voice drops. “But more than that she was just herself, and her emotional world made me feel whole again. It gave me hope, and so for all it felt crazy I took the hand of an almost stranger and went with her.”

I hold his hand tightly in mine. The courage of him still takes my breath away, his ability to trust in the future and have faith in me…oh, I love him.

“I find abstaining from humans difficult,” Jasper says abruptly, and I frown at him. “I have tried for many months, but there have been several incidents and I am not fully confident in my ability to maintain control.” His face is taut. “I don’t wish you to feel that we have tried to hide anything from you.”

Carlisle shakes his head. “We understand the difficulties.”

“Who would understand more than us?” Esme joins in. Her eyes are shining as she looks at Jasper and I, and I cannot help but grin back. Her excitement over our arrival and her willingness to open her heart to us is clear in her face, and the emotions are touching. “We have all struggled at times. Some of us more than others,” she adds with a rueful smile.

Carlisle takes her hand with a wink. “You know you’ve come so far! Emmett too, he’s done admirably.” He looks across at Jasper. “Esme is right- who would understand more than us? It takes time to develop control, and there is no censure within our family for any of us who might stumble on the path."

Jasper nods and I squeeze his hand. “See? Isn’t it just like I said?”

He raises his eyebrows at me, and I wrinkle my nose in return.

“I’m intrigued by your visions Alice,” Carlisle said. “How do they work?”

“I don’t really understand that myself,” I say cheerfully. “I see it in my mind, what’s going to happen…of course sometimes people change their minds and then the visions change. And sometimes I’ll see things that don’t make any sense in the context of where I am at the time, and I have to wait until something else happens that give them meaning. And of course, sometimes I just don’t look for the right things!” I laugh. “I saw meeting you, but I never looked to see if everyone would be here so I didn’t know that Emmett and Edward would be gone. They’ll be back this evening though.” I frown briefly as I see it in my mind. “Emmett’s clothes are completely destroyed…goodness, what does he _do_ when he hunts?”

Rosalie laughs with a sudden burst of mirth that Carlisle and Esme join in with. “Well, now I _know_ that you’re telling the truth,” Rosalie snorts. “Goodness knows Emmett’s the only vampire any of us know that eats like such a savage when they should know better!” She looks at both of us thoughtfully. “I don’t like the idea that you can manipulate my emotions,” she says candidly to Jasper.

He nods. “I can understand that. If it’s any comfort to you, I don’t do it merely for my own amusement or benefit. I kept you all calm earlier because I felt it was safer, but I have not been sitting here influencing you all along.” He hesitates. “I can’t say I’m not a little uncomfortable at the idea of living with someone who can read my mind.”

“Join the club,” mutters Rosalie. “I’ve been doing it for seventeen years and I’m still not comfortable.”

I shake my head. “Well, if you two have _quite_ finished being so pessimistic about everything!”

Rosalie looks appalled that I would speak to her like that, and I feel the giggles bubbling up inside me again. Jasper merely shakes his head.

Carlisle smiles at me. “It’s not as bad as you think, Jasper. Edward doesn’t make a habit of listening in to everything, and he’s very discreet with what he does hear. He can’t help it, any more than you can help feeling the emotions that surround you.” He pauses. “Edward’s skills have been very useful on several occasions. It can be helpful to have someone who knows what others are thinking when you’re trying to blend in to the human world and avoid trouble.”

“It’s okay,” I say cheerfully. “We’ll all be friends once everyone gets used to things.”

“Of course we will,” Esme says. “Now, would you like to take your things inside and get settled? I suppose if you take Edward’s room we can work with that.”

Jasper lifts our suitcases and I smile happily at Esme. “You don’t have to get up,” I say. “I know the way. Thank you so much for listening to me and taking us in like this.”

“You’re very welcome,” she answers, and Carlisle nods. Only Rosalie, still learning against the railing with her arms crossed looks doubtful.

The house is halfway through being renovated and redecorated, and the room at the very top of the stairs that I lead us to hasn’t been touched yet. The bare wooden floors are unpolished and the green flocked wallpaper is faded, but the large dormer window offers a beautiful view of the wooded slope down to a lake. I kneel on the window seat and look out, wondering where Emmett and Edward are in that wilderness.

Jasper stands behind me and wraps his arms around me. I feel him drop a kiss on my head as he breathes in the scent of my hair, and then he sighs and his body relaxes.

I turn to face him. Kneeling up on the window seat our faces are level, and I look lovingly into his light yellow eyes. “It’s okay here, isn’t it?” I say softly. “It’s like I said it would be. It’s home Jasper.”

He nods. “Yes. It’s almost more than you said it would be.” He shakes his head in wonderment. “Carlisle…I’ve never been around anyone whose emotional vibrations are like his. He embodies _peace_ Alice, and I can’t express how restful it is just to be near him. Esme too…these people are happy Alice; right to the core they are serene.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, slow and soft. “Thank you my love, for bringing me here. I understand why you did now.”

I kiss him back fervently for a minute, and then pull back. “And Rosalie?”

Jasper hesitates. “She’s prickly,” he says at last, and I giggle. “There’s a lot going on behind that face. Her emotions are very intense, which can be uncomfortable sometimes but on the other hand, the way she feels about Emmett…” his voice trails off and then he smiles. “I always think I love you so much no one else could possibly feel like this, and then I’m near someone else and I realise that it can be like this for everyone if they’re lucky. There is a great deal of love in this house darlin’…I think it will be a good place for us.”

 “It will be.” I look critically around the room. “Once we fix this room up, anyway.” The room contains an antique desk, a leather sofa and armchair, a record player, a closet and a chest of drawers. There are boxes piled along one wall, almost to the ceiling. Peeking into the ones that I can reach, I see that they are full of nothing but books and records.

“I suppose these are Edward’s things,” I say. “I’ll just ask where I should put them.” I whisk out of the room.

I’m only halfway down the stairs when I hear Rosalie’s angry voice out on the porch.

“You’re too trusting!”

I pause, holding my breath and freezing all my muscles so that I can’t make any noise and give myself away.

“You don’t believe she’s telling the truth?” Carlisle is still calm in the face of Rosalie’s irritation.

“I don’t care if she is or not!” Rosalie retorts. “I don’t want another psychic in my home messing with my head! And we don’t know anything about them but what they’ve told us…who knows what their real purpose is?”

“They seemed lovely,” Esme says quietly. “Not everyone is out to hurt others, Rosalie.”

Rosalie snarls. “Well, we don’t know that, do we? The least you could have done was waited for Emmett and Edward to get back before inviting two strangers to move in!”

Carlisle sounds like he’s trying to hide amusement. “For someone who objects to Edward listening to thoughts out of her head, you seem rather keen for him to do it to others.”

“That’s different!” Rosalie sounds furious. “This is about being safe, not about Edward being nosy! We have no reason to trust them Carlisle.”

“I believe Alice was telling the truth about her visions,” Carlisle says quietly. “And Jasper made no efforts to hide things from us that don’t paint him in a very positive light…I believe their intentions are sincere, Rosalie.”

“And don’t forget Rosalie, you were a stranger once too,” Esme interjects softly. “We’ve created a family from strangers…maybe they are meant to be part of it too.”

“I’m not saying they’re not,” Rosalie snaps in frustration. “For what it’s worth I do believe she sees things- goodness knows I’ve seen enough of this vampire world freak show to believe in anything! I’m just saying that we need to be careful!”

She slams into the house, her eyes meeting mine with a furious glare. “Were you listening?” she says aggressively.

“I did hear you,” I say calmly. “You’re right that you have no real reason to trust us right now. But I’m _not_ lying and I _have_ seen what I told you about. I’m just asking that you hold back on judgement for a little while. That’s all.”

Rosalie shrugs, but she doesn’t snap or snarl and for her that’s good enough. And when she sighs and says, “Did you want something?” I know that it’s her way of saying that she will, at least, give us a chance.

“I was just wondering what I should do with Edward’s things?” I say. “Should I move them somewhere?”

“How about the doghouse?” Rosalie grumps.

Esme is just coming in to the house behind Rosalie, and giggles as she hears her. “Oh Rose! Don’t pout darling, Emmett will be back soon.” She looks at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “Rosalie is just cross that Edward took Emmett away hunting for a few days.”

Rosalie flips her hair back. “Yes, yes, I’m sulking…But they didn’t have to go so far away. And it’s not like we _have_ a dog, and that little house is out there waiting, just perfect for Edward…” She looks back at Esme with wide golden eyes and then flicks a glance at me, and all three of us laugh. 


	31. A Family From Strangers

“They’ll be here soon,” I say, closing my now empty suitcase and placing it on top of the wardrobe, pushing Jasper’s duffle bag after it.

Jasper nods, rubbing his chin. “I hope Edward doesn’t object too much to us taking his room.” He looks at me doubtfully. “You really are sure?”

“Yes,” I say impatiently. “He won’t mind – not _much_ – and this is where I’ve always seen us.” I look around. “Almost, anyway…just a little more decoration and it will be ours.”

The boxes, drawers, sofa and armchair are gone. The enormous desk must have been built in the room because it can’t be manoeuvred out of it, and so from now on it will be Jasper’s. Carlisle and Esme’s suite was recently redecorated, fortunately for us, so we have their old bed and dresser set which is still lovely. I remember my sweet little home in the carnival tent and feel a burst of excitement at being able to decorate this beautiful room to be ours.

For a moment I stand still, looking down at the poem and the beaded bracelet that I have just taken so carefully from the suitcase pocket. _“With you in waking and dream shall I be_ ,” I murmur. I carefully smooth the paper out and lay it on the dresser, laying the beaded bracelet across it to hold it flat. _Alice- you called him Jasper. Find him. Good luck._ I wish I knew who wrote that. I wish I could thank them for giving me this proof of my visions that has helped me keep faith for so many years.

    I look up to see Jasper watching me with his heart in his eyes. I smile at him and move to his side to take his hand. “We should go downstairs and wait for Edward and Emmett.”

Carlisle and Esme join us on the porch once we are sitting down. Rosalie comes out soon after, pacing the porch in an unsettled manner with her eyes on the forest surrounding us as she waits for her Emmett. Jasper’s hand curves around mine and I look up at him and wink. I am looking forward to this. I know Edward and I are going to be something special to each other, I have always seen us that way in visions, and I am anxious to make his acquaintance in the real world. As for Emmett…oh, my memories of that small boy I spent one evening with shine bright in my mind and I am longing to see him again.

Only seconds later I do see him as he streaks across the lawn and bounds on to the porch, wrapping Rosalie in his arms and holding her tight against him as his curious eyes light on Jasper and I.

“What the hell’s going on here?” His eyes meet Rosalie’s with an intensity that warms my heart. “You okay, baby?”

I can’t help but see the way her body fits against his, the way she breathes that little bit deeper to take his scent in, the way he is focussed only on her as she answers him. “Yes, I’m fine. That’s Alice and Jasper, they’re…” she trails off. I don’t think she knows what we are yet.

“I told you there was nothing to worry about Emmett.”

It’s Edward, climbing the steps with a relaxed grin for Emmett. He gives Jasper and I an even look. “Hello.”

I can’t help but beam at him. “I’m so happy to see you!”

Edward pauses, and I think he is probably listening to the thoughts of everyone, which must be a loud clamouring in his head with all this excitement. I can’t help but giggle, and Edward raises his eyebrows at me with a quirk of his mouth. “Very loud,” he murmurs.

“Care to explain? Anyone?” Emmett runs his hands through his curly hair, which I notice is still damp. In fact all his clothes, as torn and dishevelled as I saw they would be, are wet and as I watch Rosalie grimaces and pushes him away.

“You’re all wet,” she says.

Emmett looks affronted. “You told me not to come home smelling like an animal! I had a bath in the river. I even used soap…smell!” And this time I laugh aloud as he pushes Rosalie’s head towards his chest.

She lets him, and as her nose touches his shirt she breathes him in for a moment then opens her mouth and bites him which makes him growl. He holds her hair as she smirks at him, and then he looks across at Jasper and I with indecision. “There’s no drama with you two here?” he says hopefully.

I shake my head. “Oh no. We’ve just moved in…I can explain it all.”

“Okay.” Emmett grins at me and then looks down at his clothes. “I’m just gonna go get some clothes on that don’t have the ass out of them. Don’t talk til I get back.”

He walks backwards through the door behind him, presumably so I don’t see his backside showing through his torn trousers, Rosalie following him. I hear the distant slam of a door.

A moment later Jasper makes a sudden, strangled noise beside me and I feel his grip on my hands tighten. I look at him questioningly, and then up at Edward who has perched on the porch rail and is now laughing.

“You feel the emotions of them?” he says to Jasper with a humorous look. “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than hearing Emmett’s thoughts…”

For a moment I don’t understand, but then I hear an unmistakeable noise from what I presume is Emmett and Rosalie’s room and I hold my hand up to my mouth to hide my smile. I guess Emmett had something more in mind than just changing his clothes when he took Rosalie with him… Jasper’s eyes on me are dark, and I wonder how strong the feelings of lust and desire he must be sensing are. I shake my head at him.

“No wonder you’ve taken over my room,” Edward chuckles. “It’s the furthest away from them!”

Carlisle lip twitches, and Esme looks horrified. “Oh dear! Carlisle, perhaps you should speak to Emmett…there is a time and a place after all, and he doesn’t seem to have any boundaries at all!”

Carlisle raises his eyebrows at Esme. “I’ll talk to Emmett…when _you_ have the same conversation with Rosalie!”

Edward chokes on a laugh and Esme sighs and makes a face. I think that’s a conversation that will never take place!

Jasper shakes his head. “No, it’s not…unpleasant, at all. If you’ll forgive me for being candid about such a sensitive subject, what I feel from them right now is more love than lust. Feeling love - however they might be expressing it! – is never uncomfortable.” He smiles at Edward. “I think the thoughts would be worse!”

“So you don’t get the thoughts?” Edward clarifies. “Just the feelings?”

“I feel emotions in a more general sense,” Jasper tells him. “I sense the emotions but I don’t know the cause or who the feelings are directed at.”

“Fascinating,” Edward murmurs. His eyes move back to me. “And you…”

“I told you not to talk til I came back!” Emmett, still buttoning up his shirt, jumps through the window on the other end of the porch and moves rapidly towards us. “Jesus, I’m the one who needs explanations in words.” Rosalie follows him and I can’t help but notice that she is more relaxed being near Emmett, and the softness in her eyes when she looks at him that she tries to hide.

Jasper stands and he and Emmett shake hands. “Good to meet you,” Emmett says cheerfully. “Emmett McCarty Cullen, whatever…and you’re Jasper? And Alice?” He grins down at me. “So where’d you come from? What are you doing here? Damn, I go hunting for a couple of days and everything changes.” Emmett flings himself down in one of the porch armchairs and pulls Rosalie down on his lap. “Come here baby…I missed you.”

I clasp my hands together and beam at him. His physical presence is more imposing that the visions conveyed, but the dimples and full lips and cheeky grin is so exactly like that of the boy I played with so many years ago that the last thing I feel is intimidated.

“We’ve moved in,” I say brightly. “Thank you for giving up your room Edward, I do appreciate it!”

Edward chuckles and Emmett gives a booming laugh.

“We’re all going to be a family together,” I say confidently. “I was by myself for a long time, just moving about here and there, but I always saw visions of you. Of Jasper by himself, and of all the rest of you together. I see the future you see…I saw Jasper and knew I had to find him, and I knew that we would come here and join you. So we did that, and now here we are!”

“No way!” Emmett leans forward, excited. “You see the future? Awesome…that’s gonna fuck up Edward’s cheating heart when we play games.”

Everyone laughs and Edward does his best to look offended, although he’s smiling too. He looks at me and I giggle as I see a vision of the two of us playing chess, making about three moves between us before one of us concedes defeat.

“I see it too!” he says to me, and there is a sudden glow in his face as he sees the possibilities of what he and I will be to each other- the two of us who _know_ things.

“Jasper is an empath,” I tell them, speaking aloud for Emmett’s benefit although I know Edward is hearing our story out of my head. “He can sense the emotions of people around him, and influence them too.”

Emmett frowns, not completely understanding.

“Do it,” I say softly to Jasper. “Do fear.” Fear was my first experience of Jasper’s gift, and I’ve never forgotten it. Making someone angry can also be quite spectacular…maybe too spectacular if he were to do it to Emmett or Rosalie!

It works on me too, as he sends the tendrils of terror drifting out to twine around hearts and make flesh crawl with horror. It works on everyone as I watch their faces and see them visibly flinch and shrink.

“Stop it!” It’s Rosalie, half on her feet, and this time Jasper winces as the fear in her turns to anger and spikes him. She’s glaring at him, eyes narrowed and her beautiful face furious. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Jasper looks at me helplessly as Emmett wraps his arm around Rosalie and pulls her back down to his lap. He bends low over her and murmurs something I can’t hear, and she turns her head away from everyone else. I touch Jasper’s hand reassuringly.

“That was something else!” Emmett says brightly, obviously trying to lift the mood. “And you can do anything like that?”

Jasper nods. “Any emotions. The effect I’m able to have on anyone last only as long as I’m close by and making the effort. I’m sorry Rosalie,” he says directly, to the back of her head since she’s still not looking. “I won’t do that to you again. I just wanted Emmett to understand.”

Her shoulders slump a little, and she looks across at Jasper wordlessly. He looks at her steadily, and a moment later she nods reluctantly. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I don’t like to feel afraid.”

_Too many ghosts,_ I think with a stab of pain. Too many ghosts in her past, just like Jasper…both of them have seen too much of the dark heart, and they will always carry the scars.

I see Edward’s start of shock as he must see what I’m thinking, and my eyes meet his urgently. _No! She can never know that I saw her like that! Please…I couldn’t save her. I would have if I could! And I couldn’t save Emmett if it would take him from her._

Edward’s face is incredulous. “You saw _Emmett?_ Human Emmett?”

Everyone’s faces are on me, wearing identical looks of surprise. Rosalie’s hand grips Emmett’s shirt possessively, and he looks at me with blank amazement.

“You saw me human?” he says. “When? I don’t get it…you’ve known about us _how_ long?”

I giggle. “I’ve known you all in visions for thirty years! I was made vampire in 1920, although I don’t remember anything before that. It’s been such a long wait…that’s why I need you to forgive me for being overly familiar. I feel like I’ve known you all along.” I think about the night I met Emmett, and I can’t help laughing at him when I think about the little human boy that has grown up into this vampire man sitting in front of me. “I met you when you were nine years old Emmett. Do you remember one night the carnival came to town, and you went with your brothers but they took all the money and then you met a fortune teller…”

I ignore Edward’s laughter as he realises the way I used my gift out in the human world, too caught up in watching Emmett’s face creased with the effort of remembering and then the dawning realisation.

“That was _you!_ Holy mother of god, I _do_ remember that!” He buries his face against Rosalie for a minute, shaking with laughter. “I won a bow and arrows, and you fed me my own damn bodyweight in carnival food and I got to have a go at _everything._ ” His eyes are shining. “Rose, it was like the best fucking night of my whole life up til then. My brothers had to take me with them to the carnival, but soon as we got there they ditched me and then I met the fortune teller – her – and I got to do everything for free. Shit, my brothers were so jealous…but it was worth it, even when I puked about ten times while we were walking home I still thought it was worth it.”

“And you told me I knew nothing when I told you your fortune!” I say teasingly. I look pointedly at Rosalie. “Didn’t I tell you she’d be beautiful?”

 Emmett’s laughter is so joyous and unrestrained it makes me laugh too, and I can see Jasper smiling just from the cheerfulness. “You told me I’d go all over the world and live in a whole lot of places…you never said I’d be a freaking vampire when I did it!” His hand cups Rosalie’s cheek and he looks at her tenderly. “She told me I’d marry the most beautiful girl in the world,” he says softly, and this time he’s talking only to her. “And just look at how right she was about that.”

I look across at Carlisle, Esme and Edward. “I did tell him that. He told me I knew nothing and he was going to be a cowboy and never get married.” They all laugh, and Carlisle shakes his head.

“It’s amazing to think of it. Did you see them when they were all human?” he asks.

I hesitate, so briefly that no one except Edward picks up on it. “Not exactly. It wasn’t until Emmett was right there that my intuition told me it was him- that I was seeing the vampire Emmett I’d seen in visions as a child in front of me. He looked very much the same as he does now…just smaller! Once I’d met him and knew him I was able to see him as a human much more easily.”

I pause and glance across at Jasper, who is watching me carefully. He knows the story. “I saw big things, sometimes,” I say slowly. “I saw you with the bear Emmett, and I saw Rosalie save you. I saw when you bit Esme, Carlisle.” I risk a glance at Rosalie, who is watching me with a face like stone. “I never saw enough to know where you were. I wasn’t even sure who was still human and when. I didn’t see enough, or understand enough, of any of the human visions to change anything.” My voice rings with sincerity, because for all my visions confuse me I do believe this. “Sometimes I can change things, but I couldn’t have changed this. All of us, being here…being what we are…I couldn’t have changed this.”


	32. Getting to Know You

“So what now?” Rosalie says, looking towards Carlisle and Edward. “Now that they’re here…what about school? We were supposed to start tomorrow.”

Edward shrugs. “That doesn’t matter. We can put it off for a bit.” I can tell he finds Jasper and I far more interesting than the prospect of school.

Rosalie pouts and I bite my lip. She’s going to be my sister and my friend, I _know_ that…but does she have to make it so difficult for us to get there?

“Jasper and I will go too,” I say after a moment, glancing over at Jasper. A smile spreads over my face. “It will be fun! I’ve never been to school, at least not that I remember.”

“We’ll need to think up some kind of explanation for five of you,” Carlisle says slowly. “When I spoke to the principal I said I was bringing my three adopted children to enrol…perhaps we can say that two of you are relations of Esme?”

“Perhaps a niece of nephew,” Esme says. “Living with us so they can attend school?”

“Rose and Jasper could be brother and sister,” Edward suggests. “They’re both tall and fair- more alike than any of the rest of us, at any rate. They could be Esme’s niece and nephew, twins I suppose if we say they’re the same age. If Emmett and Alice and I are your adopted children, which we’ve done before, that will account for five of us.” His brow is furrowed in concern. “If we’re _sure_ about school though? It won’t matter if we don’t attend, or even if all of us don’t attend.”

“Oh, Jasper and I will be fine!” I reassure him. “We’ve been playing human quite well for some time now, and I’m sure we can manage.” I’m not as sure as I sound actually, not anywhere near it, but this prospect of school has made me want it so badly I think the risk is worth it. School! Lessons and dances and football and cheerleaders and student newspapers…imagining all the possibilities makes my eyes glow, and I squeeze Jasper’s hand tightly.

“Have you been to school before?” Esme asks gently.

I shrug my head. “I don’t know.”

Jasper gives a wry smile. “I suspect it’s going to be rather different to the military academy I was attending in 1860. Probably not a great deal like the tutor who attempted to drill in some knowledge and discipline in the home schoolroom before that, either.”

Emmett laughs. “Damn, you’re older than all of us except Carlisle. What about you, pipsqueak, how old are you?”

Half offended by his nickname for me, I open my eyes wide. “I don’t know. I don’t remember being human, so I don’t know how old I was when I was changed. But I was changed in 1920, so it’s been thirty years.”

“Huh,” Emmett looks thoughtful. “So you were changed before Esme and me and Rose then.”

“I think for school purposes we might say you’re the same age as Edward,” Carlisle says. “If you two enter as fifteen year old freshmen, Emmett and Jasper and Rosalie can be sophomores. We’ll need to do up some birth certificates.”

“Alice Cullen,” I say, charmed by the sound of my new name. “I’ve never had two names before!” I assume I did when I was a human, but I have long ago accepted that I will only experience the human world from the outsider perspective of the vampire.

Rosalie glares defiantly at Jasper. “I want to keep my name,” she says flatly.

“Rosalie…” Esme begins, but Jasper shakes his head.

“If we’re to be brother and sister I’ll use your name too, if you’d prefer that,” he says quietly. “I can be known as Jasper…”

“Hale,” Esme supplies with an anxious smile, and Jasper gives her a reassuring nod in return.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I haven’t been known by my family name since I was turned really.”

“Good.” Rosalie rises to her feet and glides away without looking at anyone, leaving a slightly uncomfortable silence behind her.

Emmett runs his hands through his hair and sighs, looking across at Jasper half apologetically. “She doesn’t give things up easily,” he says softly. “Not even her name. If it makes you feel any better she hardly ever uses my name either, and I bloody well married her! Change scares her…just give her time.”

No one seems to know quite what to say then, and soon people begin drifting away. Carlisle asks Jasper to come with him and give him what details he can for the new birth certificates he’s making up, and Emmett follows them. Esme heads off in to the house, possibly to look for Rosalie, and then I am alone with Edward, who looks at me steadily.

“Jasper’s not sure about going to school,” he says at last. “He doesn’t feel confident that he can resist the thirst.”

I sigh, crossing my legs under me on the chair. “He’s never confident of his control,” I say. “He _does_ find it hard, harder than I did when I first started, but he resists it better than he thinks he does.”

“There’s no hurry to attend school,” Edward says slowly. “Rosalie can go if she wants to, but if Jasper needs more time…”

“I think he’ll be fine,” I shake my head. “I don’t see his mistakes until he makes them, because he never _decides_ to do it, it just happens…but I watch him. I’ve become so attuned to him I see nearly everything, if I look.”

Edward is fascinated by the visions, as I knew he would be. As a telepath he has lived in the peculiar world of preternatural knowledge for a long time, but I am the first person who has ever been able to come close to understanding. “So as you know someone you see them more clearly?”

I nod. “Yes. I didn’t understand it at first, because I was seeing visions with no way to discover their accuracy. It wasn’t until I joined the carnival and spent time with the same people that I realised my visions were clearer and more detailed the more I knew or was connected with the subject. Like Emmett, I never really saw him as a human until after I met him, but once I knew him I could see nearly everything at will.”

“It works that way for me too, a little,” Edward says. “Those I know well, like Carlisle and Esme and Rosalie and Emmett- I can pick their thoughts out of crowd now without even trying.” He grimaces. “Emmett’s thoughts are like a megaphone though, they always have been. I’d be interested to speak with Jasper and see if he finds some people’s emotions are clearer or stronger than others.”

“Jasper says it’s more about how strongly they are affected or ruled by their own emotions,” I say. “When we got here he said that Rosalie was very intense, and that Carlisle and Esme were so beautifully peaceful.” I smile. “He needs that- he needs people who can allow him to rest.”

I lean my head back against the chair and turn my face to Edward’s. He’s smiling, the clear golden eyes looking at me with bright interest, the rumpled hair falling across his forehead, and I feel myself giving him an answering smile.

_I’m so glad to be home. I know I don’t know you all, not really, but I have missed what I was knew was going to be._

Edward nods thoughtfully, and in my visions I see a quick succession of images- hunting, school, playing, talking, laughing…yes. I’m home now.

Almost home. The thought of Rosalie drifts into my head and I know that we are not really accepted here, and it cannot fully be home until we are. Edward frowns slightly.

“She’s difficult,” he says, and I can tell he is trying to find a way to be diplomatic. “You seem to know a lot about her, so I guess you know that. Emmett is right that she just needs time though, she’ll come around.”

“I know she will,” I say, with a cheerfulness that is only a little forced. “She needs a sister! She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Edward laughs, seeing my intention in his mind. “She’ll be in the garage…good luck!”

I skip down from the porch and over to the garage that is built beside the house. There are two sets of double doors along the front, one set of which is propped open and through it I can see Rosalie’s legs and bare feet coming out from underneath a car.

“Hi!” I say, bending over to peer under the car. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing really.” Rosalie slides back out from underneath the car and looks up at me. “I take care of the cars, so I was just checking on something but it’s fine.”

“I don’t know a thing about cars,” I tell her cheerfully. “I’ve never even driven…it is hard?”

“No.” Rosalie rises to her feet. She’s wearing a pair of old cotton coveralls, grease stained and dirty, and it’s a surprising contrast with her silky fair hair and perfect face. “I could show you how one day, if you want,” she adds, half unwillingly.

“I’d like that,” I say honestly. I watch her as she unbuttons the coveralls and slips out of them, hanging them up on a peg on the wall before she scrubs her hands ruthlessly at the sink in the back corner. She doesn’t seem in the least self-conscious about standing around in her underwear…but then, looking like that, why should she be? It’s not until she’s clean that she pulls on the skirt and sweater that she had on earlier.

“I like your dress,” she says slowly, her eyes meeting mine briefly. I can’t help my answering smile at the compliment.

“Thank you. It’s my favourite,” I tell her, smoothing down the cherry print skirt as I perch on the hood of the car.

“Are you really going to stay here?” Rosalie asks. “And go to school?”

Her face is inscrutable, and I’m not really sure what she wants me to say, but I nod anyway. “Yes. Jasper needs a family, and I want you all.” I brush at a wrinkle in my skirt. “I know you think it all sounds crazy, but it’s going to work out Rosalie, we’re going to be friends and…”

“You can’t do _that_ then!” Rosalie interrupts me, her voice exasperated.

“What?” I say in confusion. “I can’t do what?”

“You can’t tell me what I’m going to do, or think, or feel all the time!” Rosalie exclaims in irritation. “Not if you expect us to be friends!”

I look at her blankly. For so long my visions have guided my actions and the people I see in my mind’s eye have been as real to me as the flesh and blood humans around me that it has never occurred to me that someone else might not see them the same way.

“I’m not saying that we won’t be friends,” Rosalie goes on, a little more quietly, mistaking my silence for hurt. “But you have to let that kind of relationship just grow. You have to let it happen…you keep on telling me what I’m going to do or going to think and it comes across as manipulation, and I hate that.”

“I never considered that,” I admit. “I just…see how things turn out and then I get impatient.”

Rosalie shrugs. “I don’t like to be bullied into doing things. I like to make up my own mind.”

She looks at me half defiantly and half pleadingly, and I realise that despite all her outward prickliness and the almost rude honesty she is not saying these things to be unkind. I think that underneath it all, Rosalie is desperate for a friend.

“I understand,” I say in a low voice. “I shall try. It’s hard though, I was by myself for such a long time and I’ve always seen us – all of us – as a family. I want that so much and it all feels so real to me that I forget it’s not the same for everyone else.”

Rosalie nods. “I’m sorry if my bluntness offends you. I don’t mean it too. But you’re best served by honesty in this house- Emmett is as straight as an arrow and Edward knows everything anyway, so there’s no point in lying when he’s anywhere around!”

I giggle. “I’ll try and remember.” I hesitate for a moment before I say quietly, “Will you look out for Jasper at school? He might find it difficult, and if you’re in his classes you could just…keep close to him?” My beloved Jasper and this girl are going to be friends; I have seen in my visions that she will take him to heart as her brother and protect him with all of the bossy love and ferocity that she brings to most of her relationships. But I have listened to her words and instead of telling I ask her, and smile in relief when she nods assent.

“The school is small here. It’s likely that Emmett and Jasper and I will all end up in most of the same classes.” Rosalie looks at me again and then says, almost diffidently. “Do you have clothes for school? My things won’t really fit you, but Esme sews well and if you need anything we can probably alter something of mine or hers. At least until we go shopping.”

“Oh, I don’t know!” I bounce off the car and grab her hand, ignoring her slight flinch as I touch her. “What do people wear to school here? I have a suitcase of clothes, but not really _lots_ of things…I love clothes but we’ve just been moving around so much so that I could only keep my very favourite things…” I tow her off to the house, paying no attention to her somewhat stunned look at my audacity in touching her uninvited. “What are you going to wear? Can I see your things? Ohhhh, you have a whole _closet_ of clothes…” I lead us unerringly to her room and dive into her closet. “Rosalie, you have so many beautiful things!” I’m nearly in raptures.

“Is she always like this?”

I back out of the closet to see that Emmett and Jasper are standing in the doorway, watching us with amusement. Rosalie is sitting on the end of the bed, looking imploringly at Jasper as she repeats her question. “Is she always like this?”

Jasper’s eyes on me are soft. “More or less,” he drawls, adding after a moment, “Of course, I never had a whole closet full of clothes for her to play in…”

“Far from it!” I say affectionately. “Really, it’s a good thing I’d seen you in my mind beforehand, because ordinarily I could _never_ have approached someone dressed as badly as you were that day!” I look longingly at Rosalie’s clothes, most of which I would have to be about a foot taller to even try on, not to mention the amount of cleavage I’d have to have miraculously appear for any of them to fit. “Sadly I don’t think I’ll even come _close_ to fitting in to your clothes Rosalie.” I look at her with my mouth turned down in disappointment, and in return she gives me the first genuine, non-sarcastic smile I’ve seen from her.

“Never mind,” she says, as Emmett brushes his hand through her hair and she leans into him briefly. “We can go shopping tomorrow after school.”

“Any excuse,” he says to her teasingly, and she kisses him lightly and grins over at me.

I wrap my arms around Jasper’s waist and bury my face in his chest for a moment. “School and _shopping_ tomorrow,” I say rapturously. “Didn’t I say it would be good Jasper? Didn’t I tell you?”


	33. A New Experience

Jasper is standing at the window, looking out at the dreary, overcast day. The low lying cloud obscures most of the view. I wrap my arms around him and press my face into his back, and after a moment he turns to face me.

“I love you,” he murmurs, tipping my face up to look intently into my eyes.

I stand on tiptoes and pull his tie until his face is close enough for me to kiss him. “I love you too. Are you ready for the day?”

Jasper shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be darlin’. School again…who would ever have thought?” He shakes his head with a bemused smile at me. “The things you make me do!”

I giggle. “I’m so excited! It’s just like being human!” I take his hand and tug him towards the door. I cannot wait. I have read about school, and I have watched the humans go and even been to the occasional school event and walked through the crowd with my eyes aglow just for the fun of it, but never have I been able to be one of them.

Edward meets us as we descend the stairs, holding a pile of notebooks under one arm. “There are pencils and pens in the kitchen,” he tells us, passing us each a notebook. “We’ll be given a list of books and supplies today, but this will do to get started.”

I appreciate that he takes the time to tell us these little bits of information, aware that neither Jasper nor I are very familiar with the way high school works. Edward tells me that this will be the fifth school he, Rosalie and Emmett have attended together and that they are used to starting over. I follow him into the living room, where we run across Emmett and Rosalie kissing in an armchair. Rose is in his lap, her skirt bunched up and Emmett’s hands doing something under her sweater that I don’t really want to think about right now. Edward makes a noise of disgust and throws a notebook at them, which Rosalie manages to catch before it can touch either of them.

“If you two have _quite_ finished,” Edward says acidly. “I mean, don’t let me stop you or anything…we’re only going to be late if we don’t leave now.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes at him and sighs theatrically as she stands up and smooths down her clothes. Emmett grins at Edward and holds out his hand for a notebook. “Thanks bro.” He vanishes through to the kitchen.

I clap my hands. “Rosalie, you look _adorable!”_

She’s wearing a full navy blue skirt and a soft pink sweater set and as I watch she examines herself critically in the mirror above the fireplace, smoothing down the long blonde ponytail she’s made with her hair. “Adorable…yes,” she says, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “But do I look sixteen?”

“I don’t even know what sixteen is meant to look like,” I say brightly. “But you look beautiful!”

She smiles at me and then moves like a stalking cat across to Edward, holding her hairbrush like a weapon. “You’re supposed to look like you’re fifteen,” says to him, with a wicked grin. “Alice, don’t you think he needs tidier hair?”

I giggle as she wraps one strong arm around his neck and brushes his chaotic hair until it’s flat against his head, despite his objections. Once she’s done she snorts with laughter as she looks at him, while he glares at her furiously.

“Very…respectable,” I say, feeling the warmth of belonging as Edward throws me a very brotherly look of disgust. “Now Edward, leave Rosalie’s handiwork alone and show me where the pens are please!”

There’s a blare from a car horn, and then I hear Emmett’s bellow from the garage. “Geez Edward…get it together! You’re always making me late!”

Edward makes a noise of outrage and Rosalie giggles and disappears to the garage, Emmett’s booming laugh greeting her. Edward shakes his head at Jasper and I with a resigned grin. “Those two! Honestly, I’m glad you’ve turned up…they’re impossible and I’d love some less annoying company.”

I smile at him and link my free arm through his as he, Jasper and I head out to the garage, saying goodbye to Esme on the way. Emmett, already sprawled out in the passenger seat of one of the cars, shakes his head in mock disappointment at Edward.

“Really Edward, I don’t know…messing about, making us all late…” Emmett sighs dramatically, and then snorts. “Nice hairstyle too, you look really hot.”

“He’s supposed to be fifteen- it makes him look younger!” Rosalie exclaims.

“It makes him look like a nerd,” Emmett corrects her. “But hey, at least the outside matches the inside now…” His words cut off and he laughs as Edward punches him hard on the shoulder.

We travel to school in two of the family cars, parking side by side in the school lot and standing in the drizzling rain for a moment, smelling the strong scent of humans on the breeze. Jasper stands close beside me, his hand linked in mine and holding tight. His face is tense and, concerned I let the visions flip through my mind. He will be okay…at least I think he will be.

Carlisle smiles at us all reassuringly. “Ready?” He half laughs as he takes in the sight of us. “Five children…dear me.”

Emmett scoffs. “Yeah, whatever _dad_ ,” he says sarcastically. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

We’re ushered right into the principal’s office, and I see the way he tenses when he takes us all in. It occurs to me for the first time that the effect a vampire has on a human as they unconsciously register all that preternatural beauty and the innate threat of the predator is more than exponentially increased when faced with a group of them. The principal’s face is taut, and he has to make an effort to smile as he shakes Carlisle’s hand.

“Dr Cullen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says. “Come in, take a seat.”

Rosalie, Carlisle and I take the chairs in front of the desk. Jasper stands directly behind me, his hands lightly resting on my shoulders and his bearing as upright as ever, Edward beside him. Emmett slouches against the wall, his hands in his pockets. I think he’s trying to seem less intimidating but it doesn’t really work.

“And these are your children,” the principal, Mr Sanders says, looking nervously at the boys, blushing as his gaze accidently lingers on Rosalie.

“Yes. My adopted children, Emmett, Edward and Alice. Rosalie and Jasper are my wife’s niece and nephew, and they’ve come to live with us here to go to school,” Carlisle answers smoothly, sounding like he’s told this story a thousand times before. “I have their records here,” he adds, passing across a bundle of papers.

I know they only made them up last night, but the birth certificates and school reports all look completely authentic as Mr Sanders reads through them quickly. “Your children seem very bright, Dr Cullen,” he comments.

Carlisle smiles at him, and winks at me when the principal is not looking. “Oh yes. They’ve had some wonderful teachers over the years.”

Mr Sanders hands each of us a piece of paper with a timetable printed on it. “We’ve made up schedules for the children.”

I’m quivering with excitement. Jasper strokes my hair and I can feel him calming me down a little, and with a sigh I lean my head back against him for a moment.

“Well, that should be fine,” Carlisle begins, only to be interrupted by Rosalie.

“Excuse me, but you’ve put me in both sewing and cooking.” She sounds disgusted.

Mr Sanders looks surprised and not exactly pleased her tone of voice. “All our girls take the domestic arts subjects in ninth and tenth grades,” he tells her.

“I’d rather not,” Rosalie says flatly. “I can already sew and I can’t do cooking- I’m on a very specialised diet.” She ignores Emmett’s low, amused chuckle and takes Jasper’s schedule. “Look, I can take advanced math and chemistry at those times with Jasper.”

Carlisle looks at Mr Sanders. “If that’s not a problem?”

Mr Sanders takes Rosalie’s timetable with a stiff smile. “If you’re happy for your daughter to take those subjects it can be accommodated. Looking at her transcripts she appears to have the prerequisites.”

“I think it would be best,” Carlisle says smoothly. “Rosalie’s quite academically inclined, and I’m sure she appreciates you making the change for her.” He gives her a pointed look, and Rosalie gives the poor principal a smile of such angelic flirtation that he flushes a dark, dull red.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. She glances over at me and I realise that part of her objection and subsequent change of classes was so that now there are two extra classes she will share with Jasper. I give her a tiny smile in return.

I feel a moment of hesitation when the time comes to leave Jasper. I have barely left his side for a year and a half, and as he and Emmett and Rosalie are led off to the English class they will all share I watch after him for a moment with my heart in my throat. I have such belief in him, but all those humans, closed inside this cramped space with their warmth and scent and heart beats…

“He will be okay,” Edward murmurs, so low that the human boy leading us to our math class can’t hear. “Rose and Emmett will keep him close.” He grins at me. “And I’ll look after you…just calm down!”

I bounce on my toes, grinning gleefully. “This is going to be so much fun!” The boy in front of us gives me a patronising smile as he hears that, and opens the door to the math class. The teacher gives us a friendly smile.

“Well, two new students are joining us today. Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourselves?”

“I’m Alice Cullen,” I say, the new name tripping easily off my tongue. “And this is my…brother, Edward. We just moved to Maine. Our father is a doctor. We have another brother, Emmett, and our cousins Rosalie and Jasper live with us too.”

We have talked about this story at home, and Edward assures me that it’s so commonplace as to raise no questions. It’s strange that this is so, when the very ordinariness and humanity of it is so extraordinary to me! But Edward is right, although several of the girls are eyeing his good looks with clear interest, no one seems to care where we came from or why we’re here.

Edward adds nothing to my brief introduction besides a distant smile. It is another thing he told me this morning- that part of moving through this human world without raising suspicions is never giving more information than what is asked for. Considering how much I enjoy talking, I think this might be almost harder for me than resisting the call of the blood.

“Thank you Cullens,” the teacher says. “Now, if you’d take a seat we’ll be getting on with things.”

I slip into a desk beside Edward and look expectantly towards the blackboard, ready to get on with my first day of school.

It turns out to be more confusing and more difficult than I expect. I have badly underestimated how much effort it will take to be in such close and extended proximity to humans and not only resist the lure of the blood but do nothing to arouse suspicions that I am not the human girl I say I am. I am glad to have Edward by my side for the math and history and science class, he realises my ignorance and subtly guides my behaviour when needed. My visions help too, as I’m able to see what questions will be asked and either flip through the textbook pre-emptively or ask Edward for answers.

Unfortunately then I have a cooking class and I have to venture on alone, as Edward heads off to a boys’ gym class. Despite how much people have been staring at us all morning no one seems inclined to be friendly and the place beside me at the bench in the cooking class stays empty, leaving me to flounder through my first experience of preparing food alone.

While I am enchanted with the feel of the flour and butter on my hands and delighted at the idea of being able to bake a pie, the reality of actually cooking it proves almost beyond me. I don’t know how to peel the apples and the pastry sticks to _everything_ , and then I have to wash dishes which I’ve also never done before. It turns out that you really need much less dish soap than I thought you did…as I mop up the overflowing bubbles I begin to think Rosalie had the right idea in avoiding this altogether. But the class finishes at last and I take my pie in its cardboard box and carry it triumphantly with me to the cafeteria, where the others are already seated at a table.

“Look!” I exclaim. “It’s only my first day of school and I already learned something! Now I can bake a pie!” I place the box on the table and open the lid with a flourish.

“Because that’s a useful skill in our way of life,” Rosalie mutters sarcastically.

Jasper smiles at me lovingly as he rises to his feet. His eyes are dark with thirst and his face looks tense, but he gives me a reassuring nod and holds out a chair for me. “I’m glad you had a good morning.”

Edward looks at the pie doubtfully. “Very…nice.”

Emmett only laughs, and his comments are blunt. “My mama baked pies Alice, and they’re not supposed to look like that. Black is not the right colour for pastry.”

“Oh,” I say, crestfallen. “I’ve never cooked anything before.” I sit down beside Jasper with a sigh, taking his hand in mine. “I’ve never even _eaten_ anything before, so I thought I did quite well, all things considered.”

Emmett looks abashed. “Well, it’s not so bad for a first attempt,” he says consolingly. “And it’s not like you’re going to eat it or anything.”

I turn to Jasper, leaning my head close to his. “Are you doing okay?” I ask him, so softly that no one else could hear me. “I’ve been watching your morning, as much as I could…has it been very difficult?”

Jasper’s eyes lighten as he presses his lips to my forehead, his hand resting on the back of my head to keep me close as he breathes in my scent and my nearness. “A little difficult,” he answers quietly. “I missed you.” His eyes are intent.

Everything else in the room fades into the background as I look at his beloved face and gently touch his lip with my fingertips. “I missed you too.” As I say it I realise how true it is, now that I am beside him and feeling my very soul expand with the joy of togetherness. I wonder briefly if I have done the right thing by insisting on attending school so soon. “I wish we could do it together.”

“I know.” Jasper kisses me again, chastely, before leaning back in his chair, although he doesn’t release my hand. “I’ve not been alone though. Rosalie and Emmett are in the classes with me, which is helpful.”

“Edward has been helping me.” I frown a little. “There’s so much I don’t know!”

Jasper smiles at me and I am reminded of the first day, when he told me that he could finally feel hopeful. “We shall learn darlin’,” he says with his crooked, charming smile. “We’ll learn.” 


	34. Who Would Have Thought

“Jasper!” I bound up the stairs, my hands full of shopping bags, desperate to be with him after such a long, strange day full of new experiences.

After not eating lunch in the cafeteria I managed to get through my afternoon classes without mishap. When the final bell rings Esme meets us in the parking lot and reminds me that she and Rosalie are taking me shopping. Much as I want to go with them I look across at Jasper, whose eyes are black with thirst and muscles taut with the strain of resisting all day, and I hesitate. He needs to eat.

“I thought we boys might go hunting,” Edward interjects quietly. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m thirsty. Jasper, what do you think? Will you come with Emmett and I and we can show you some of the good places?”

Edward eyes are the colour of butterscotch, and I know he doesn’t really need to hunt and recognise the gesture for what it is. I squeeze his hand in mute gratitude when no one else is looking after Jasper nods his agreement and Emmett enthusiastically embraces the plan.

“Sounds good to me! We’ll show you the likely places for good stuff Jas,” Emmett says cheerfully, giving me his irrepressible grin. “Then when you take the pipsqueak out later you’ll have it all over her.”

“She might not be such a sneaky prey stealer as Rosalie is,” Edward says teasingly, skipping smartly to the side as Rosalie throws a punch.

“Children!” Esme says reprovingly. “Really, if you’re going to behave like infants I’ll have to treat you like that! Rosalie, hands to yourself please. Edward, leave your sister alone.” She frowns at them threateningly, and then her usual sunny smile reasserts itself. “Hunting is a good idea for you boys anyway. Emmett, you drive home please; remember you’re only fifteen now Edward and don’t have your license. Rosalie and Alice, I’ll take you downtown in the Cadillac- hop in.”

Knowing Jasper was off satiating his thirst and bonding with Emmett and Edward left me free to enjoy shopping with Rosalie and Esme, and enjoy it I did! The town was small and the shopping somewhat limited, but there was enough to gladden my heart and make me hop up and down in excitement as I tried on outfit after outfit. Esme had a beautiful eye for colour and fit and had some wonderful suggestions for accessories. Rosalie was more interested in trying on things for herself, but she gave advice when I asked for it and seemed friendlier than at any time before. By the time we pull into the garage at home, the trunk full of our new purchases, I am positively dizzy with joy over how things within the family are shaping up.

I want to see Jasper though, acutely aware that we have been separated for hours, longing to feel him close beside me. I speed up the stairs, making no pretence at human movement, and come crashing into our bedroom, where Jasper is sitting on the bed reading.

“There you are!” I drop all my bags and launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his neck as he catches me. “Oh Jasper, I missed you!”

I feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle. “Well, hello to you too darlin’. How was the shopping?”

“Wonderful!” I exclaim, kissing him hard and then sitting up and beaming at him. “How was hunting? What did you catch? What are you reading? What else have you been doing?’

“Woah there!” Jasper is smiling broadly. “Slow down, my lovely one…give me a minute.” He strokes my hair and kisses my gently. “The hunting was good, there’s plenty out there and I feel a great deal better for it. Emmett caught a bear…that was an eye opening experience,” he chuckles and I giggle with him, for I’ve seen Emmett bear hunting in my visions.

“It sounds fun. I’ll come next time,” I say, snuggling closer to him, my hands playing with the buttons on his shirt. “What else have you been doing?”

“Reading. The American history text- Carlisle had the school phone the order to the bookshop and they put it together for him to collect on his way home.” Jasper indicates the book lying beside him on the bed, opened to a page about the Civil War. “It’s so peculiar Alice, reading about the time and place I grew up as they teach it in history! I had dinner with him once,” he adds thoughtfully, tapping a photograph of a stern faced soldier. “Not a bad fellow really. Misguided of course, but then…weren’t we all?” He sighs. “I’ve just been waiting for you to come home to me.”

I smile and curl my hands into his hair, pulling his head down to mine and kissing him deeply. “Darling Jasper, you did so well today.” I lick his lip, still able to taste the very faintest trace of blood from his earlier feeding. He growls faintly and bears me down on to the bed, where I sigh with deep contentment and wrap myself around him. Oh, how I love this beautiful vampire man of mine with his scarred body and sad history and boundless capacity to love!

“Do you think you will truly be happy here?” I say quietly, as we lie naked and curled together some time later. “Do you think that this is the right place for us, here with them?”

Jasper’s large hands run through my hair and stroke my back. I can see him considering my question as he always gives thought to what I ask him. “I thought you saw it all in your visions?” he says at last. “I was under the impression that you thought it was all perfect.”

“Well, yes,” I admit, my fingers tracing the long ago memorised pattern of scars that cover his body. “But something Rosalie said to me yesterday made me think a little, and I don’t want you to feel that I manipulate you.”

“She said that?” Jasper sounds like he’s not sure whether to be amused or offended on my behalf.

“Sort of,” I sigh. “She told me that if she and I are to be friends that I have to stop telling her what she’s going to do or think all the time. I have to let some things just happen organically, not always try and push for the outcome I want to happen immediately. It sounds so silly, but I never even thought that I did that…but of course I do! I see things, and I get impatient to have them happen in real life and I try to hurry the outcome along. Which is mostly quite harmless and sometimes probably even a wise decision…but I don’t want to push you, Jasper. Not with this.” I kiss the point of his chin and rest my head on his shoulder. “Your happiness matters more to me than anything else, my love. Yes, I want this family and I think that this _is_ a good place for us, but only if it’s what _you_ want too.”

“Don’t worry yourself on my behalf,” Jasper says soothingly. “I’ve made no real secret of the fact that I came here for _you_ , that my resistance to feeding on humans is centred on not disappointing _you_ …but being here has shown me how much I desire the peace and love that exists in this family for myself, how much it’s going to change my life. I’ve felt it surrounding me since we stepped up on to the porch Alice, and I don’t want to lose it any time soon. My love, you gave me hope the day you first took my hand and called me yours, you’ve given me light and joy in my life every day since then…and now you’ve given me something else, by bringing me here to them.”

I press my lips against his, too overcome with the strength of my own love and happiness to find words. That’s the beauty of Jasper though- he _feels_ it and words are not necessary, not when it comes to the love we have between us.

“How are they feeling about us?” I speak quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear.

“Positive, generally,” Jasper answers with a smile. “Esme is delighted to have another daughter in her life, and Carlisle is happy to have us with them here. Emmett is just excited to have more people to play with.”

“Edward?” I prompt. “And Rosalie?”

“Edward has accepted us as part of his family,” Jasper tells me. “But he feels a great deal of concern about me, I think. You know that I find resisting…difficult, and of course being a mind reader he knows that better than anyone.” A faint frown crosses Jasper’s face, and I think he doesn’t like having his weaknesses exposed. “Edward’s emotions are much stronger and deeper than it appears on the outside,” he adds thoughtfully. “He feels responsible for the safety of the family, and he loves them more than they realise, I think.” His hand rubs absently at my head. “He is very drawn to you.”

I kiss the hollow of his throat. “It’s because of the seeing,” I say. “It has always set him apart, and now there’s me and I understand what it’s like. I think he’s been lonely Jasper. He needs me to be his friend.”

Jasper chuckles. “ _Everyone_ needs you darlin’.” His eyes are glowing in the dimness as he looks at me. “Give it another week or so and I don’t think this family is going to know how they got along before you came.”

I giggle, sitting up and searching for my clothes. “What about Rosalie?” I ask, buttoning up my blouse with nimble fingers. “How is she feeling about us?” I make sure to drop my voice, knowing that she won’t like us discussing her in this way.

Jasper shrugs. “She doesn’t trust us yet. She struggles with herself- she feels jealous and threatened by our appearance here but doesn’t want to feel that way. Emmett said that change unsettles her and he was right- she feels far more uncertainty and fear than she shows on the outside.”

I sigh briefly. “She’ll come round.” I have seen us as sisters, laughing and close as we talk confidences, but I know that I will just have to wait for her suspicious nature to relax and allow it to happen.

I slide in to my shoes and stand up as Jasper throws on his clothes, and the two of us go downstairs, finding the rest of the family gathered in the living room. Emmett is scowling mutinously over a pile of shoes, a brush and shoe polish in his hands.

“Stop sulking,” Rosalie says to him from where she’s sitting behind a checkerboard, smiling smugly. “You made the bet and you lost, so get to work boot boy.”

“I’ll give you the damn boot,” Emmett mutters, and I giggle at him as he scrubs furiously at what I think is a pair of Rosalie’s shoes. He glares at me. “Don’t get any ideas pipsqueak.”

“Alice would know who was going to win from the start,” Edward points out. “You might need to curb your compulsive gambling with Alice around, Emmett, or you might find yourself doing a lot more than polishing up the shoes.”

Rosalie clicks her tongue as she sweeps the pieces back into the box. “What a bore,” she says grumpily. “It’s already hard enough to find something to play where Edward can’t just outright cheat, and now you can just predict the outcome right from the start.”

“Oh well,” Esme says cheerfully, coming over to Rosalie with another box. “I suppose us mere mortals…well, mere immortals…will just have to play with each other so we follow the rules. Scrabble, Rosalie?”

The two of them set up the game, talking quietly, and Jasper and I move over to the table where Edward and Carlisle are sitting. Carlisle is writing in a journal, and Edward is flipping through the new textbooks that are stacked on the edge of the table.

“How was your first day of school?” Carlisle asks us, his eyes crinkling up as he smiles.

“I learned to bake pies!” I say brightly. “Emmett said it wasn’t very good, but…”

“I said it wasn’t like my mama’s pies,” Emmett interrupts. “And you have to admit it was pretty shit…it’s not like I just went and insulted your pie for the hell of it.”

Carlisle chuckles. “Well, I’m sure baking is a useful skill.”

I sit beside Edward with a small sigh, wondering if I will ever be called upon to bake anything that someone will eat.

“What about you Jasper?” Carlisle goes on. “How was your day?”

Jasper hesitates. “Fine,” he says at last. “Difficult. Interesting though- it’s a rather different world to the one I last went to school in.” He brushes his hands through my hair and then sits down across from me. “I’m grateful Emmett and Rosalie were there with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emmett finishes the shoes and stands and stretches. “Kind of nice to have some company- just let me copy your homework and we’ll be cool.”

Jasper laughs as I flip through the math book, reading the explanations and committing them to memory. There has been little call for anything beyond basic arithmetic in my vampire life so far, and I don’t want to be caught out in class not knowing something. Reading my mind, Edward pushes my notebook and pencil across to me and I begin to work on the assigned problems.

I catch Jasper’s eye and grin. “Just look at this,” I say, showing him my page of neat figures. “Homework! Who would have thought this is what I’d be doing now?”

“Who would have thought?” Carlisle murmurs thoughtfully, looking about with a slow smile. His eyes take in Rosalie and Esme laughing over their Scrabble game, Emmett twirling a pen in his hands with a smudge of shoe polish on his cheek, Jasper and Edward bent together over a book with Edward giving low voiced explanations, and then his eyes meet mine. “Who would have thought?” he repeats wonderingly. “Who would have thought that this is what any of us would be doing right now? It just shows Alice, life is always full of surprises.”


	35. This Is What We Are

I step lightly down in to the hollow, the body of the deer I’ve just drained dragging behind me. Jasper is crouched at the bottom of the hollow, one drained deer behind him, the body of a second clamped to his mouth even as its legs still kick feebly. His eyes, dark with the pleasure of the blood, meet mine.

Over to the side Rosalie defiantly wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and then pushes the enormous fallen tree trunk whose roots pulling out of the ground made this little hollow. She shifts it enough to make a gap beneath the trunk, and tosses the body of her kill in there. I smile at her and shove mine in after it.

“Where’s Emmett?” I ask.

Rosalie holds the massive tree trunk up without effort, waiting for Jasper to finish his meal, and shrugs casually. “The show-off wanted the buck- he thinks they taste better.”

“They do!” There’s a voice from above and Emmett appears shirtless, balancing on the fallen trunk Rosalie is holding up, the body of a buck dangling from its antlers in his large hands. He slings the animal in with the other bodies and then does a complicated somersault trick off the stump, landing light as a cat beside Rosalie where he wraps an arm around her and nuzzles at her neck. “And who are you calling show-off?”

“Gee, I wonder?” she murmurs, with an arch smile in his direction.

I turn away, hearing the sounds they make as they start kissing. They really are impossible to be around sometimes! I step towards Jasper, who is finishing up and rising to his feet.

“Better?” I ask him, and he nods wearily.

“Good enough darlin’. It should get me through another school day anyway.” He glances at his watch. “Speaking of which, we should be getting along or we’ll be late.”

He drops his deer in beside the rest, coughing loudly to interrupt Rosalie and Emmett, who separate somewhat reluctantly. Rosalie yanks the fallen tree back in to place, kicking at some of the dirt and leaf litter that has been disturbed at its base, while Emmett pulls his shirt from where he had it crumpled up and stuffed into a pocket and begins to dress.

“You’re not planning on wearing that to school, are you?” I ask, scandalised.

Emmett looks up. “What? It’s clean…that’s why I took it off, so it wouldn’t get blood on it.”

“It’s so crumpled though! It looks like you’ve slept in it!” I say in despair.

“I don’t sleep at all,” Emmett points out reasonably. “Let alone wear shirts while I do it.”

“Oh, you just have no idea!” I shake my head. “The way you are about your clothes Emmett!”

“It’s a losing battle,” Rosalie tells me calmly. “Trust me, getting him to remember to take off the blood stained shirts was difficult enough. The fact that he actually took it off to keep it clean is a step forward.” She brushes her hand through his hair, dislodging the sticks and leaves that he seems to attract, and then slowly and deliberately licks the smear of blood drying on his cheek.

Emmett growls at her, but before he can start kissing her again I grab his hand and yank. “No! We have to go to school!” I say sternly.

Rosalie rolls her eyes and Emmett grumps and groans dramatically, but the two of them follow me as I leap out of the hollow and head rapidly back towards the house. Jasper takes my hand, matching my pace. His eyes are light after the feeding and he seems more relaxed than he was earlier.

“Ready?” Edward has the car ready to go out on the driveway when we emerge from the forest. He reluctantly throws the keys to Rosalie- for Edward the worst thing about pretending fifteen is that he doesn’t have a license and isn’t allowed to drive on the public roads, something Rosalie taunts him about endlessly.

I whisk in to the house and snatch up the books that Jasper and I will need today and am back out and in the car before Rosalie has finished adjusting her mirrors. Which I suspect that she only does to look at her own reflection, rather than being safer on the road, but even after only a week living here with them I know enough not to raise the subject of her vanity with her!

  Edward must be listening to my thoughts as he climbs into the car beside me, because he laughs and meets my eye. “You’re not wrong,” he whispers.

I sit in the middle of the rear seat as we drive to school, Jasper and Edward on either side of me. Emmett sits up front beside Rosalie, scribbling at some just remembered homework as we drive. He has a license and could drive if he wanted to, but he doesn’t enjoy it the way Rosalie does and Emmett does anything that makes her happy.

Jasper grows tense as we get closer to the school. I take his hand and hold it tightly, looking up at him with an encouraging smile. He finds the long school days so difficult. The way his body demands satisfaction when it is so constantly surrounded by the temptation of the blood is brutal for him to resist. He has admitted to me, and only me although Edward probably knows, that the rest of us unwittingly make it more difficult for him. Thirst is not an emotion and he doesn’t feel that, but he senses the desire and sometimes desperation that it leads to, and this only intensifies his own feelings of longing for what he cannot take.

“Jas, can you do that math for me?” Emmett asks plaintively. “I’ve got this damn French to do for first period and I’ve never learned it before…fuck you for telling me languages were a good idea Edward!”

Edward and Rosalie both chuckle. “It’s good to challenge yourself,” Edward tells him, sounding only a little pompous. “Rosalie learned French and German when we were in Europe and she’s picked up Latin and begun on Sanskrit since then, and it’s about time you made the effort to catch up.”

“What, so I can talk shit in twelve different languages like you do?” Emmett retorts, and I can’t help giggling. He rolls his eyes at me. “Look pipsqueak, don’t you start!”

Jasper takes Emmett’s notebook and finishes the math homework, effortlessly imitating Emmett’s dark, scrawly handwriting and handing it back to him as we pull in to the parking lot at school.

“Thanks,” Emmett flashes him a grin, and leans back to rumple my hair. “Your turn will come, my apprentice,” he teases me. “Wait til they get on at you to learn something because it’s ‘useful’ instead of fun!”

I laugh back at him. “I seem to have that covered with my cooking class! It’s so much fun, I really do adore it, but I’m driving the teacher to distraction. She actually said to me last time that it was as if I’d never even set foot in a kitchen before…little does she know how right she is!” I frown as a vision cuts into my thoughts. “Oh,” I say in disappointment. “I can’t go to it today- there’s going to be an accident with a knife.” I see it clearly, the blood bright red and dripping into a puddle on the bench top, and I know that if I am there then the simple accident will turn deadly. “You had all better stay away from the kitchen this afternoon too. It’s going to be messy enough that they’ll take her to the hospital to get stitched up.”

Jasper grimaces. “I really don’t know how Carlisle does it.”

“Years of practice,” Edward says, slamming his door shut and raising his eyebrows at Jasper. “I will say Alice, that it’s very handy having you knowing when school classes will involve blood- imagine if that kind of thing came as a surprise.”

I shudder, knowing all too well what would result from an unexpected shedding of that amount of blood in my presence. My control is good, but I’m well aware that there are limits to what I am capable of. Jasper takes my hand, and as a group the five of us move towards the school building.

“They don’t like us,” I say softly, feeling the eyes of the other students following our progress.

“Who cares?” Emmett says.

I don’t answer, but the truth is I have been somewhat hurt that my attempts at friendliness with these humans have been rebuffed. I saw coming to school as a chance to experience the human world I don’t remember ever being a part of, and it makes me sad that there are so many parts of it that still seem out of my grasp.

“They sense that we’re different,” Edward says, his voice low. “It’s instinct Alice, that’s all…you’re a predator and part of them recognises that and their survival instincts guide them to stay away. You can’t take it personally.”

“I just wanted…” my voice trails off, and I meet Rosalie’s eyes, surprised at the depth of sympathy there.

“It’s your first school,” she says quietly. “But you’ll learn after a while that we’re not like them and we’ll never be part of the human world, not really. It’s not safe when the control might snap at any moment. Even if there wasn’t that danger, the truth is that they’re going to go through school and go on in to the world and grow and change and live and die…and we won’t. This is what we are, and this is what we’ll always be.”

I stare at her, surprised by the glimpse of her vulnerable heart she’s just given me. Perhaps feeling that she’s said too much, Rosalie turns away from me, but I see the loving caress of Emmett’s hand on her back and I know that she will be okay.

Jasper takes my hand and I squeeze it. Maybe Rosalie is right and the human world isn’t really for us, but I remember my human friend Flynn who simply accepted my ‘magic’ and I know that I’ll always keep my heart open for what might be.

Rosalie and I share a gym class first, and the two of us say goodbye to the boys and go and change. We’re alone in the locker room, and Rosalie gives a bad tempered snort as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“I don’t know what I hate more,” she mutters. “Gym, or the stupid outfits that go along with it.”

I giggle. “ _You_ look good in everything.”

Rosalie winds her ponytail around itself and secures it into a bun with a sigh. “Gym then. I usually try and get out of it when we enrol in school, but I thought I’d already pushed them far enough by refusing to do cooking and sewing, so I got stuck with it this time. It’s an excruciating experience- holding back all the time and not winning. God, I hate to lose, even something as meaningless as a school softball game!” She swings an imaginary bat. “We need to play at home- do you play baseball?”

“We used to play sometimes, in the carnival,” I say, remembering with a smile. “Just scratch games, with whoever felt like it.”

As a group of other girls come into the locker room their conversation fades when they see Rosalie and I. Rosalie tosses her head and mutters, “Come on Alice,” and I trot after her out into the gym.

“You really don’t care about not being friends with them?” I ask her impulsively, as the two of us sit on the bottom row of the stands, as far from the gym teacher as we can get. “You don’t ever wish it was different?”

Rosalie rests her chin in her hands, her elbows on her knees. “There are things that can’t be changed Alice, and the human reaction to us is one of them. I’ve been this thing…what I am, for seventeen years now, and wishing doesn’t get me anywhere.” Her voice is flat. “I have Emmett, and Esme and Carlisle and even Edward, and that has to be enough.”

“You have me and Jasper now too,” I say gently, and after a long moment of silence Rosalie nods slowly.

“Yes. I have you and Jasper now, too.”

I know she hates to be touched by anyone but Emmett but I wrap an arm around her waist and lean against her arm anyway. It takes a moment, but the tension leaves her body and she relaxes into the touch and I smile happily to myself.

I replay the conversation to Edward when he and I meet up in our science class later on. He and I work together on a rat corpse, taking it in turns to dissect it and find the tiny organs, as I think the conversation in my mind and Edward listens to it.

“From Rosalie that’s practically a declaration of love,” he comments with a grin, sketching a photographically accurate picture of the rat’s heart into his logbook. “I think you’re going to be a good influence on her Alice.”

Using long forceps and wrinkling my nose against the strong smell of formaldehyde, I poke through the rat’s intestines. “This is rather more revolting than I expected…considering how we eat I wouldn’t have thought it would bother me. You don’t seem to care.”

Edward chuckles. “I’ve been to medical school. I didn’t graduate- couldn’t do the clinicals at the time – but it’s not cutting up the dead that bothers me.” His eyes flick to the other students, giggling and gagging at their own benches as they work over their rats. “I have more trouble with the living.”

  I laugh, but the next second a vision comes to me with such clarity that the real world seems to rock and shift under my feet. I make a high pitched sound of horror and the scalpel in my hand slices through the rat like butter and embeds itself deep into the bench as I try to stop myself falling.

“Alice!” Edward grabs me, his hands like iron bands around my upper arms. “What is it?”

“Jasper!” I gasp, wrenching the scalpel out of the bench and letting it fall with a clatter. “Edward, he needs me…”

Edward sees in my mind what I’ve just seen, and his hands are ruthless as he pushes me off the lab stool and towards the floor. “You’ve fainted,” he murmurs rapidly. “Shut your eyes- the paleness is good for this. Excuse me!” he raises his voice and calls to the teacher. “My sister…”

There’s noise and bustle around me, warm human hands touching my forehead, Edward’s iron grip on my arm keeping me steady as my mind whirls and I have to fight every instinct that is screaming at me to leap to my feet and flee, to run to Jasper right away.

“She’s just fainted,” Edward says calmly. “The dissection…she’s got a weak stomach. I’ll take her outside for a drink of water and some fresh air.” I feel his arms go under my knees and my shoulders and he lifts me effortlessly, brushing asides offers of help. “No thank you, it’s fine, I can manage her. It’s happened before.”

I can feel the tension in his arms, but he maintains the human pace as he carries me from the room. It’s not until we’re around the corner and out of sight that I flip down onto my own two feet and we both begin to run.

“Will we be in time?” Edward asks urgently.

“No.”

We don’t stop running though. Not til we’re across the school yard and down into the bushes behind the gym where we find Jasper, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands and a body slumped on the ground beside him, head bent back at a grotesquely unnatural angle and the marks of teeth clear in the delicate skin of the neck.


	36. Picking up the Pieces

“Jasper!” I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him frantically as he automatically catches me. His eyes are glowing the ruby red of blood.

“Did anyone see you?” Edward demands.

Jasper looks up at him. His eyes look bleak, but his body is practically thrumming with satisfaction and well-being after his forbidden, delicious feeding. “No. I had a study period and I came outside to get away…he was down here smoking.”

“Okay,” Edward sounds resigned. “Alice, I’ll go back to our class and tell the teacher that I’m taking you home. I’ll see if I can get Rosalie out of class too, she’s good in these situations.”

He vanishes, and as soon as we’re alone I curl into Jasper, breathing in his scent and stroking his hair. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry I let you down, darlin’,” he says in a low voice. “I didn’t even think, just heard the heartbeat pounding and dove.”

“I know,” I breathe. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.” I kiss him again, desperate to be close to him, to have him feel how very deeply and intensely I love him. His arms tighten around me and I know he understands what I’m trying to tell him without words. “It’s okay.”

There’s a distant bell, and then footsteps and Rosalie, Edward and Emmett appear around the side of the gym, taking it in. Emmett grimaces, but Rosalie’s eyes are cool as she assesses the situation.

“No one saw you come down here?” she says.

“No, I had a library period.”

“Okay…and now you have gym with Emmett, right?”

Jasper and Emmett nod, and Rosalie glances at Edward. “They should go.”

Jasper and Emmett both makes noises of protest, but Rosalie shakes her head. “You have to. We can’t do anything that might draw attention to us. Five of us skipping out on the last period is too obvious.” She looks at Edward, who nods at her.

“Yes, that might work.” He looks at the rest of us. “We have to get rid of the body. We can’t make this look like an accident, he can’t be found with bite marks and we can’t disguise them but Rosalie thinks she can take him down and hide him in the lake.”

I have a sudden vision of Rosalie, a grotesquely beautiful mermaid swimming naked through dim green water with her golden hair streaming behind her and a limp body being towed along in her wake. It is all I can do not to cringe away from her.

“I’ll take Alice with me,” Rosalie says, flicking her eyes my way. “If you go to the office Edward, and tell them that you got me to take her home after she fainted, that covers an absence for the two of us this afternoon. The three of you boys need to stay at school. I’m sorry, but as I said, all of us disappearing will be too obvious.” Her eyes meet mine, hard and challenging. “If you can help me with this, Alice?”

I straighten my shoulders and meet her eyes squarely. “I can do whatever you can.”

A ghost of a smile crosses her face, and she turns back to the boys. “You think this will work? Edward?”

Jasper shakes his head. “I really think…”

“Shut up,” Emmett says to him, not unkindly. “We’ve done this before- no one can stage a death scene or hide the evidence like my angel girl can. Just let her get on with it.” He kisses Rosalie, hard and briefly. “Love you, baby.”

Edward shrugs at Jasper. “Emmett’s right. Rosalie is good at this, and I think what she’s planning will work.”

Jasper’s lips tighten, and I know that he is deeply unhappy with himself. I also know that having the others leap in and sort out his mess is something he is both grateful for and resentful of, and for a moment I hug him hard.

“Go on,” I say to him quietly. “Go with Emmett to gym, and then come home. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Emmett scruffs Jasper’s hair so that it falls forward over his face, shading his crimson eyes. “Just don’t look at anybody,” he advises. “Come on buddy, let’s get this over with.”

Jasper and Emmett disappear around the corner, and Edward nods at Rosalie and speeds after them. Rosalie frowns for a minute and then says to me, “We need to get that in to the car I suppose. Can you get it over to the back fence?”

I wince a little, but nod determinedly. I have to do this for Jasper, I have to make this potential disaster for us disappear as soon as I can. I think about my squeamishness over the rat such a short time before and almost laugh at myself, as I now find myself stuffing a dead teenage boy into the trunk of a car and keeping an eye out for anyone who might see us.

There isn’t anyone to see us though. It’s a cool, grey day and all the other students are busy in school, this back road screened from the building by a stand of trees. Rosalie drives fast, taking the road that leads to our house and then accelerating past it as we head towards the lake.

“Have you done this before?” I ask hesitantly, desperate to break the silence.

Rosalie doesn’t look at me. “Getting rid of bodies? Not in the lake, but yes. Emmett…he had trouble with temptation at the start. There have been several times when restraint was too difficult.” She shrugs. “As I always said to him, it’s inevitable really. We fight our own nature every single day, and sometimes we’re going to lose. Sometimes we can make it look like an accident, particularly when it’s somewhere Carlisle is established as a doctor and can rule on cause of death. We’re too new here for that though, so it’s just a matter of hiding the evidence and avoiding suspicion.”

I close my eyes and let the visions come. “It will work,” I say distantly. “We’ll take him down to the lake and out to the centre in a rowboat. They’ll find the body and think he skipped school to go fishing. They’ll rule drowning…by the time the body floats any evidence of what Jasper did will be gone.” I open my eyes and blink, coming back to reality.

“You’re sure?” Rosalie’s voice sounds faintly surprised. “I didn’t know what you could see of the future.” She turns the car off the main road on to a track that cuts towards the lake through the forest, swearing softly as we rattle through the ruts and potholes.

“I can’t explain what I do and don’t see,” I say honestly. “Mostly I see the results of decisions…but not always.”

Close to the lake, Rosalie pulls the car off the road, concealing it in the thick scrub. “We need to be careful that no one sees us,” she says.

“No one will,” I say confidently. “They’ll be fishing over on the other side of the cove. If we take that boat, it will all work out as I said.”

I take the body and flit lightly down to the water’s edge where an old wooden dinghy is tied to a neglected looking jetty. I don’t think anyone has used it for a long time and I step carefully into it, undoing the knots in the water swollen rope. Rosalie steps down beside me, her eyes scanning the water.

“I’ll tow us out,” she says quietly, rapidly removing her clothes and tossing them up onto the jetty. “I’m a better swimmer than I am rower.” Naked, she drops over the side of the boat into the water with barely a splash and a moment later the rope pulls taut and the boat begins to move. Closer to the centre of the lake Rosalie stops swimming and rises back to the surface, her long hair slicked back from her face and swirling around her in the water.

“Toss him over,” she says. “There are some branches down here, I can snag the clothes on them so he’ll stay down long enough for the fish to get at him and take care of the bite marks.” She pauses. “We need to leave the boat loose…you’ll have to swim too. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it but your clothes…”

“That’s okay.” I follow the body over the side of the boat, keeping my hand on the boy’s shirt as he starts to sink. Rosalie takes the body from me and duck dives under the water, and taking an unnecessary breath I follow her down into the dim, cool water, seeing ahead of me the Rosalie mermaid of my visions. Beautiful and terrible all in one as she takes care of her grisly task.

We swim slowly on the way back to the bank. I’ve never swum a distance like this before, but I copy Rosalie’s movements and get along well enough, despite the dragging weight of my clothes. Rosalie reaches the jetty first and then holds out her hand to help me up.

“You did well,” she says quietly, drying herself as best she can with her slip, and then pulling her skirt and sweater back on her still damp body. She wrings out her long tail of hair and looks at me. “I wasn’t sure that you could handle it, back at school.”

“I never had to hide a body before,” I tell her, a little hesitantly. “When I was newborn I didn’t know enough…I just killed and fed with abandon, leaving all the bodies as they fell.” I squeeze water out of my clothes so I don’t have to look at her, remembering that conscienceless slaughter of my early days. “Even when I was trying not to feed off humans anymore, if I slipped and killed one I just left them. I was never settled in one place, you see…if I left behind a gruesome scene it wasn’t something that would ever come back to me. I had my home with the carnival of course, but we were always moving. And when I had to leave the carnival, well, after that it felt like I was little more than a ghost moving through space and time. It wasn’t until I found Jasper that I existed for anyone at all.”

Rosalie’s eyes are dark. “The people I killed I didn’t hide either. I wanted them to be found…I wanted the ones who would die later to know that their time was coming.” She turns abruptly on her heels and heads towards the concealed car.

“Do you know about that?” she asks me as I catch up to her at the car. “About what happened to me, and what I did afterwards?” Her face is an expressionless mask and her voice is hard.

I hesitate, but I remember Rosalie herself telling me I am best served by honesty in this family and I nod. “My visions…I saw you. I knew your story before I met you.”

Rosalie slides in behind the wheel, staring ahead of her as I scramble into the seat beside her. “I’m sorry,” I say timidly. Whether I’m sorry for what happened to her, or sorry because I know, I’m not exactly clear on.

Rosalie sighs, and the tension in her shoulders eases as she looks over at me. “At least you knowing everything already means I don’t have to talk about it.” She carefully reverses the car and begins the jolting drive towards home. “Will Jasper be very upset about today?”

My heart twists. “He judges himself very harshly for what he sees as a lack of discipline,” I whisper miserably. “He was also unhappy that you and I were going to take care of the matter; he would prefer to clean up his own messes.”

Rosalie snorts. “Boys!”

I giggle a little unwillingly, and Rosalie gives me a sudden comradely smile. “Emmett’s the same way,” she says confidingly. “He gets very upset when he thinks I’m emasculating him!” She laughs and then sighs a little. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, and unfortunately when it comes to human deaths he’s given me more practice than I would perhaps like over the years.”

“He doesn’t dwell on it though?” I ask. “Emmett doesn’t seem to…worry too much.”

“No, he doesn’t worry too much. It’s not in his nature to fret about what can’t be changed really. He’s accepted that the two of us need to be equals and that he has to let me take care of him when I can, just as I let him take care of me. Even if that does involve rather more corpses than it would for normal couples.” She laughs, low and wickedly gleeful. “And of course, there are some very simple things I can do that let Emmett feel like a man again!”

I clap my hands across my mouth against my burst of laughter. “Rosalie!” It may have only been a week that I’ve known them, but I’m all too well aware of just what Rosalie does to let Emmett reassert his manhood!

Rosalie laughs comfortably as the car hits the made road and we accelerate smoothly towards home. “Oh, don’t play innocent Alice! You know how things are.”

“Between you and Emmett, yes, I know how that is!” I look across at her and then say solemnly, “Thank you Rosalie, for what you did today.”

Her smile fades and her face turns serious. “It’s nothing more or less than I would do for anyone in the family Alice, and you and Jasper _are_ my family now.” She hesitates. “I don’t find it easy to be open. Trust is hard for me, and I know I can be a complete bitch and I push people away…but I’m glad you’re here Alice. You and Jasper. I’m glad you’re my sister now.”

 


	37. Loneliness Banished

Rosalie and I get back to the house before the boys do. Esme’s face is creased with concern and there are many anxious questions as she sees our wet clothes and notes the fact that we’re home early.

“There was an accident at school, “Rosalie says briefly. “We had to hide a body Esme, I’m sorry.”

“Oh!” Esme’s gentle face is distressed.

Rosalie sniffs at her long hair and makes a face. “That’s not the nicest smelling lake in the world- I’m going to have a shower.” She vanishes towards her bathroom, leaving me looking guiltily at Esme.

“It was Jasper,” I tell her tremblingly. “He didn’t mean it, but…”

“Oh Alice, don’t worry!” Esme gives me a quick, hard hug. “Oh dear, you’re all wet…you should get changed. But I understand how difficult it is. We can talk about it when the boys get back.”

I follow Rosalie’s lead and take a quick shower, shampooing my hair to get the smell of the lake out of it, scrubbing hard. In my heart I am sure of the Cullen’s acceptance of Jasper and I, despite today’s setback. What I am not sure about is Jasper- if he is going to be able to acknowledge his failures and accept forgiveness for them.

He is home, sitting on the bed when I return to our room after my shower. I stand in front of him and stroke his hair as he rests his face wearily against my breasts.

“I made a mess of it all today, darlin’,” he says soberly.

I place my hands on either side of his face, turning it gently up so that I can look in to his eyes. I have become used to them gold and the red is startling against his pale face, but I don’t flinch. “You made a mistake,” I say softly. “That’s all.”

Jasper kisses me, his lips soft and questing against mine as I open my mouth to him. “I love you,” I say passionately. “It doesn’t matter Jasper, none of it matters, not here…”

He groans and pulls away from me. “Alice…”

I sigh. “Let me get dressed. I know you need to hear it from them, but it _doesn’t_ matter here. They’re our _family_ now Jasper.” I pull on a dress and stockings and shoes while Jasper slumps on the bed. “Come downstairs with me.”

Jasper holds my hand as we descend the stairs, moving towards the sound of Edward playing the piano in the living room. Carlisle and Esme are both in there with him, the three of them talking quietly over the light melody coming from the keys, although the conversation stops when we enter.

“Jasper dear, I am sorry,” Esme says sympathetically. “I know you must be feeling terrible, but you mustn’t be too hard on yourself.”

“It’s a sad facet of this difficult life we’ve chosen,” Carlisle adds thoughtfully. “That there are times we stumble on the path, and at those times the consequences are profound. But you are trying Jasper, you’ve resisted countless temptations and you know you can do it, and now you just have to keep trying.”

I sit on the sofa, pulling Jasper down beside me. His face is stiff as he listens to Carlisle’s gentle words, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re not the only one who’s done it.” Emmett enters the room and throws himself down on the sofa beside me, reaching across me to cuff Jasper on the shoulder. Rosalie, smelling of expensive soap and hair products now, not lake water, follows him into the room and sits beside him. Emmett wraps a protective arm around and cradles her close.

 “You’re not the only one who’s done it,” Emmett repeats, more seriously this time. “Being surrounded by that temptation all the time…it happens. Trust me, I know and when it was me I felt like shit about it, but you have to let it go.” He makes a face at Rosalie. “We just have to try and minimise the repercussions.”

“We’ve done that,” Rosalie adds practically. “Alice has seen it- the body will be found but there’ll be no evidence of how he really died. It will be ruled a drowning.” She looks at me with a wry smile.

Carlisle looks pained, and Esme pats his hand with a comforting look.

“I appreciate all you’ve done for me today,” Jasper says, his southern accent very strong in his slow, considered words. “But I cannot allow you to take responsibility for my failings in this way again.”

Rosalie raises her eyebrows at me, and I sigh and take Jasper’s hand. “Jasper my darling, please don’t do this.”

He raises my hand to his mouth and places a kiss on the back of my hand. “Alice…”

“No.” I say firmly, looking pleadingly around at everyone. “You have to understand Jasper, that this is our family now. What’s done to help each other isn’t done out of obligation, but out of love, because we belong together. All of us.”

“Alice is right,” Carlisle says in his measured way. “Jasper, you and Alice have added a breath of fresh air and a new layer of strength and caring to this family. We _want_ you here because of who you are, whatever that takes.”

Jasper shakes his head. “I’m not able to do what you all do, not yet. I should not have attended school when even I can tell my control is so tenuous. I cannot continue to put the safety and secrecy of the family at risk with my own unpredictability.”

I can tell how much effort it takes him to get out these words, and I hate myself for pushing him beyond what he is really ready for. “I’m sorry,” I say to him contritely. “This is all my fault. I should have known, and not been so wrapped up in doing what I wanted to do to think about you.”

“So what are you saying Jasper?” Rosalie says directly, cutting across me. “You made a mistake…yes, we know. What would you have us do? Crucify you for it? It’s not as though what’s been done can be undone.”

Emmett touches her mouth with his fingers. “Go easy baby.”

She shakes him off. “I just want to get to the point! We can sit here navel gazing and introspective all night, or we can just deal with the facts.” Rosalie looks at Jasper, half defiantly. “You killed someone. It was a mistake, you’re sorry, and Alice and I have fixed it so it won’t come back onto the family. Because you _are_ part of the family now, and damned if I’ll let you take yourself and my sister away just when we’ve found each other because you have some warped idea about responsibility.”

   The silence is broken by Edward playing a soft note on the piano and laughing gently. “Tell us how you _really_ feel, Rosalie,” he says teasingly, and his eyes on her are bright with affection.

Rosalie stiffens defensively at his words, but seeing the amusement in Edward’s face she relaxes again, smiling at him angelically. “Not all of us like to wallow in inner torment Edward!”

Jasper raises his eyebrows at Rosalie, who meets his gaze frankly. “I mean it Jasper,” she says. “You and Alice are Cullens and part of this family now.”

“And we take care of our family,” Esme puts in gently, her face soft as she looks around. “We’ve made a family from strangers, but the bonds are real Jasper.”

“This isn’t an easy life we’ve all chosen,” Carlisle says thoughtfully. “Maintaining our essential humanity in the face of vampirism is a constant challenge, but I think that the family we’ve made together is key to our success. The love and support of a family…well, you’ve _felt_ it Jasper. You told me how it feels to you here.”

“I don’t wish to go away,” Jasper says. “You are right about the family Carlisle, and the way it feels to be part of this- I do want that.” His eyes light on me, and he touches a fingertip to my nose with a loving smile. “And Alice wants this…you deserve everything, darlin’, and I wouldn’t take you away from anything that makes you so happy as you are here.” He hesitates. “I need to be honest though, and I don’t believe that school is possible for me. Not yet. It’s too much, too constant…”

“That’s my fault for pushing it,” I say guiltily. “I forget that it really hasn’t been so long for you. It’s only been a year and a half of even trying to resist and abstain, coming after a long time of following your instincts every day. It took me longer than that.”

“The more human blood you drink, the stronger the desire for it grows,” Edward says. “I was vegetarian from the start with Carlisle, but then there came a time where I explored the darker side…it was harder to go back to denying myself after indulging than it was to go without at the start.”

“Fuck,” Emmett mutters irreverently. “I’d better never go feral…I’ll never get control back if it’s any harder than it was!”

Everyone laughs a little, and I can feel hope burgeoning in my heart. I look at Jasper, my eyes sparkling. “We don’t have to go to school. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Jasper’s beautiful crooked smile lights up his face as he looks at the family that surrounds us. “I do _want_ to make this work,” he admits.

“You just need time,” Carlisle says with an encouraging smile. “And if there’s one thing we have in abundance it’s time!”

I giggle. “We won’t go to school, you and I. We’ll stay home and learn and play here.”

“I can teach you to cook,” Esme teases me. “I might be a little rusty after all this time, but I ran a human household once upon a time and I do know how to cook!”

I clap my hands. “See…who needs school?”

Jasper’s grin is genuine, and it widens into a laugh as Edward plays a jaunty little tune on the piano and says to Emmett, “Don’t worry Emmett…Rosalie and I can make you keep up your French lessons. It wouldn’t do at all for you to miss out on something you’re so passionately fond of.”

Emmett growls in mock rage and dives for him, and then there’s the crashing of vampire bodies as the two of them go rolling off the piano bench and Esme implores them to go outside before they break something. Jasper seizes them both by the scruffs of their necks and drags them through the French doors on to the porch and then down onto the lawn, where the three of them became nothing more than a blur of laughing, wrestling brotherhood.

I skip lightly out onto the porch after them, watching my beloved and my brothers play. Behind me I hear Carlisle’s low chuckle and Esme’s answering giggle, and Rosalie’s amused snort as she watches the boys with me. _My family_ ,I think exultantly. _My family…they’re here, and I’m here with Jasper, and I am never going to be alone or lonely ever again. Finally, I’m here where I belong._

A moment later Jasper is standing in front of me, dirt on his clothes and his blonde hair dishevelled, smiling up at me with all the love in his heart glowing in his eyes. I trace my fingers across his face and gently press my lips against his. _With you in waking and dream shall I be_ … The words echo in my head, as they have done for so many years, strengthening my faith in this man and his love and the life we will share together. Jasper has always been there, in my shadow world of visions and dreams and prophecy, and now he is here in the real world, and I am content. _I am yours and you mine._   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- So that’s the end of how I envision Alice’s story- happy and content with her Jasper and a vital part of her Cullen family!  
> I want to say a big and genuine thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, review or pmail me while I’ve been writing this story. I love talking about what I’m writing and it’s truly flattering when someone reads and enjoys what I’m doing. I’ve also really appreciated the encouragement while I’ve been writing this one because it didn’t always come easily. Alice’s visions are hard to work with! And I admit, I’ve always been an Emmett-and-Rosalie kind of girl, lol….Alice and Jasper were a whole new territory for me.  
> I have just posted a one-off Jasper POV of his last days as a human (The Major’s Last Ride), when he was a soldier in the Confederate army. It was an outtake for this story, since I originally had a different idea about what I was going to write. I’ve also started writing a new long fic, taking a big time jump from Alice’s world to write about Renesmee in a post Breaking Dawn world- if you want to read about that you could put me on author alert so you’ll get a note when I start posting that.  
> Once again, thank you to everyone who read, reviewed or pmailed. And of course, all honours to Stephenie Meyer who gave us the characters and the Twilight universe to play with in the first place!


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